Just & Loyal
by The Yankee Countess
Summary: "You might belong in Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal; those patient Hufflepuffs are true, and unafraid of toil." -Downton Abbey meets Hogwarts AU! Part of the Tom x Sybil Secret Santa fanfic exchange, for Adanwen
1. Year One

_BELATED Secret Santa fic for __**Adanwen**__! Her prompt was a "Sybil/Tom Hogwarts AU", where both characters were sorted into Hufflepuff. This lil' story soon got away from me (big shocker) and so it will be a short multi-chaptered fic that I will try to update quickly over the next few days. But it has been fun to write! And I decided to keep the characters in "Edwardian" Britain, so keep that in mind while reading it._

_Hope you enjoy this little fantasy AU! Stay tuned for updates and share your thoughts! Thanks for reading!_

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**JUST & LOYAL**  
**by The Yankee Countess**

_Chapter One_

_1912_

"Now there's no need to be nervous, darling; just let the Hat do its duty, and everything will be fine," Mary assured her from where she sat on the train.

Sybil glanced up from the book she was reading. "I'm not nervous," she replied with a smile. And she truly wasn't. She had been waiting for this day for years—the day she would finally begin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Crawley family was one of the oldest pure-blood magical families in Britain; descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself, which perhaps explained why a majority of the Crawley family ancestors were sorted into Slytherin, including their grandmother, father, and Mary, herself. But there were some Gryffindors and Ravenclaws here and there, including their Aunt Rosamond, and Edith, both of whom had been sorted into Ravenclaw.

Speaking of Edith, she had disappeared from the Crawley family's private train car, only to return with an armful of sweets from the trolley cart.

Mary rolled her eyes. "What a wonderful way to start the new school year, Edith; with a plump belly and rotting teeth."

Edith rolled her own eyes, before sticking out her tongue. "Well I was going to share, but now I think I won't," she stuck her nose up into the air.

"What makes you think I would want any of your sweets anyway?" Mary muttered, though she did seem to be eyeing some chocolate frogs that Edith had collected.

However, Edith was ignoring her sister's question and was grinning madly, as if she were bursting with a secret. "Guess who I came across?"

Sybil looked at her sister with curious eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but the compartment door opened, and the cheeky grin of their cousin made a sudden appearance.

"Matthew!" Sybil gasped, leaping to her feet and embracing him quickly. "It's so good to see you!"

Matthew laughed and returned the hug. "And you as well, Sybil; I can't believe how quickly time has gone! It only seems like yesterday that you were crawling around in the Downton nursery, and now here you are, preparing to begin your first year at last."

Sybil made a bit of a face at her cousin's words. She never cared for it when people only seemed to remember as "the baby" of the family, and hoped that perhaps now that she was finally starting at Hogwarts, those thoughts could finally be put to rest and she could at last, be acknowledged for the growing witch she was becoming.

"Ah, so the Captain of the Gryffindor Quiditch team has decided to grace us with his presence? My, what did we do to deserve this?"

Matthew sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before turning and forcing a smile as his blue eyes met Mary's brown. "And lovely to see you too, Cousin Mary."

Mary was the only one amongst them whom Matthew would address in that manner. Sybil exchanged a look with Edith, who seemed to be rather amused by the interaction. They both believed that despite Mary and Matthew's banter, the two of them secretly liked one another. However, they also knew that the both of them were far too stubborn to admit it.

"How was your summer holiday?" Sybil asked, tugging on Matthew's hand to sit down next to her. "Is it true that the entire Gryffindor Quiditch Team went to Ireland for the World Cup?"

Matthew chuckled and nodded his head, while Mary rolled her eyes and turned her attentions to the window, pretending she didn't care. "We did, we did, and had a chance to meet with several of Hogwarts new scholarship students while there."

Mary groaned, interrupting their cousin's story. "I can't believe this new scholarship policy, why it's utterly preposterous!"

Sybil frowned at her sister's argument. "Oh Mary, how can you say that? Every witch or wizard should have the chance to attend Hogwarts—"

"Is it fair to families like ours? Families that pay good money so that people like Edith and me and now _you_, Sybil, can receive the best magical training and education, while these people do nothing?"

"Do nothing!?" Sybil gasped, feeling righteous indignation kindle in her blood. "_These people_, as you call them, Mary, work very hard and slave away long hours in factories and shipyards and coal mines to make ends meet! Every penny they earn goes to putting food on the table and a roof over their heads, and if a good institution like Hogwarts wishes to offer some help to the children of these hardworking families—"

"What on earth have you been reading?" Mary interrupted.

Sybil folded her arms across her chest. "_The Common Cause_, if you must know."

"The what?" Mary looked utterly baffled.

"It's a newsletter; there were some women in Ripon passing them out when I went with Mrs. Hughes last Thursday to pick up my uniform from the dressmaker's."

"Oh here we go," Edith groaned with a shake of her head. "You've awoken the 'the suffragette', Mary."

Sybil turned her eyes and glared at her other sister. "You say that as if it's a bad thing, when in truth, I am quite proud of the label," she lifted her nose into the air, trying to look every bit as haughty as their grandmother.

"Of course you are," Edith muttered, before popping a lemon drop into her mouth.

Sybil opened her mouth to retaliate, but Mary cut her off again. "You're eleven years old, Sybil, you don't know what you're talking about—"

"Oh for heaven's sake, stop it!" Sybil snapped. "I may only be a first year, but I'm not baby! So stop dismissing what I have to say as if I am!"

"Here, here!" Matthew cut in, to which Mary groaned and rolled her eyes again. "Sounds like you're a Gryffindor to me, Sybil," he added with a wink.

"I think she's going to be Ravenclaw, like me," Edith grinned, opening a box of Bertie Bots Every Flavor Jellybeans. "She certainly reads like one."

"Don't be so sure," Mary muttered, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery as the train continued its journey. "She has the ambition to be a fellow Slytherin."

Despite the arguments they had been having, Sybil did smile as she listened to them. "Well, perhaps. I mean, I would be honored to be in any of those houses. But maybe I'll surprise you all? Maybe I'll be in Hufflepuff?"

Both Mary and Edith started to laugh then, which did cause Sybil to frown. "What's so funny? There's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff, it's a perfectly good, respectable, and honorable house!"

"I agree," Matthew added, though his agreement did little to ease Sybil's distaste at the way her sisters continued laughing.

"Oh gracious, it is the sort of thing that would happen," Mary sighed after her laughter finally died down.

"Very true," Edith added, for once offering a rare moment when both older Crawley sisters saw eye to eye on something.

Sybil folded her arms and leaned back in her seat with a pout. "I don't see why it's so amusing," she muttered.

"Only because it's never happened, dearest," Mary explained.

"There's never been a Hufflepuff in the Crawley family before," Edith clarified.

Sybil's frown softened at this and she sat up a little straighter, her lips curling into a proud smile at the thought. "Then I shall be the first."

Mary lifted a brow at this. "Don't count your chickens, Sybil; that's your Slytherin ambition talking."

"And in the end, the Sorting Hat always has the final say," Edith added matter-of-factly.

Just then the soft sound of a knock on their compartment door brought all of their attention to a boy standing on just the other side, a boy who looked a bit nervous and out of place.

"Tom!" Matthew quickly rose to his feet and opened the train door. Both Mary and Edith frowned and even narrowed their eyes in question as without asking, Mary put his arm around the smaller boy's shoulders and pulled him inside. "Cousin Mary, Edith, Sybil—meet Tom Branson; he's one of the scholarship students I met while in Ireland over the summer," he explained.

Mary nodded her head, while Edith gave a soft "how do you do"; neither greeting was very warm or welcoming. Sybil rolled her eyes at her sisters, before rising and crossing the compartment to where young Tom Branson stood, smiling at him (and at the gasp emanated from her sisters) as she held her hand out to the boy to shake. "Sybil Crawley; I'm pleased to meet you Mr. Branson."

"_LADY_ Sybil," Mary was quick to add, giving her youngest sister a look of warning.

It was clear based on his mismatched suit that Tom Branson did not come from the same sort of world she and her sisters grew up in. Nor, she doubted, did he come from the sort of world in which their cousin had been raised. However, despite the scrutiny he was receiving, Sybil noticed how the boy swallowed the nervous lump that had been stuck in his throat, lifted his chin, and without another moment's hesitation, reached forward and took Sybil's offered hand in his own, giving it a good, hearty shake. "Pleased to meet you…Lady Sybil."

"Oh please, just 'Sybil' is fine," she returned with a smile.

"Sybil!" Mary hissed, before rising to her feet and gently putting her hands on Sybil's shoulders. "My dear, we'll be at Hogwarts soon; we should get our robes on."

Sybil bit back the groan in her throat at her sister's meddling, and instead smiled again at the boy before releasing his hand. "I'll see you at school, Tom; and who knows? Perhaps we'll both be sorted into the same house?"

He smiled at this, but before another word could be spoken, the compartment door was shut on both him and Matthew.

"Sybil…" Mary announced in a rather icy tone, turning her sister around until they were facing each other. "_Don't_ get any ideas."

Sybil frowned. "What is that supposed to mean!?"

"You _know_ what it means!"

Sybil twisted herself free from Mary's grasp. "I was simply being polite! He looked so nervous, and who can blame him? So far away from home, not knowing anyone—"

"That hardly gives you an excuse for forgetting yourself!" Mary warned. "Just because people like him are at Hogwarts and will be sharing classrooms, dormitories, and meals with us, DOES NOT make him our equal! And you don't do him any favors by encouraging him to forget that."

"Mary's right," Edith added, another rare moment, twice in the same day. "Telling him to just call you 'Sybil'? That's not fair to him."

"Why?" Sybil asked, though she knew the answer they would give. She just didn't like it. She was perfectly fine being friends with everyone, regardless of their social standing. But apparently the world was not ready for such "radical" thinking.

"Because when we finish at Hogwarts, we all must return to the world," Mary answered. "We go back to Downton, Matthew will go back to Manchester, and people like Mr. Branson will be returning Dublin…or wherever he came from in Ireland."

Sybil shook her head. "Then what is the point of going to Hogwarts, or any school then, if not to better our minds, and thus, better the world?"

Mary and Edith seemed to be lost on what to say then, and Sybil turned away from them, opening the garment bag that contained her new Hogwarts uniform. "I for one am hoping it will be a new and better world than the one in which we presently live," she stated with a smile.

That smile only grew when later, during the sorting ceremony, the hat announced in a loud clear voice, "HUFFLEPUFF!"—for both herself _and_ Tom Branson.

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_To be continued..._


	2. Year Two

_Thanks so much for reading! Thank you to all the lovely reviews as well! Just a quick reminder (because we all have headcanons when it comes to our favorite non-HP characters on what house they would be sorted into) this is a prompt fic, and the person who requested it did ask for Sybil and Tom to be sorted into Hufflepuff (though I personally do think Sybil would have been sorted here) ;o) ALSO, it was brought to my attention that Hogwarts was always free to its students. Well, let's pretend since this is an AU and it's set in the nineteen teens, that for students like Tom (who came from poorer families) that any such costs for him were covered by "generous donators" such as the Crawleys, though just because they donate doesn't mean they have an generous attitude ;o) Anyway, I hope you continue to still enjoy, and thank you again for reading and reviewing!_

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_Chapter Two_

_1913_

"You're a natural Tom; I think you have the makings of a seeker!" Matthew had told him, while the Gryffindor Team took a break from Quidditch practice.

Tom couldn't help but smile, feeling his chest swell with pride. It was a relief, in many ways, after a rather trying first year, to find something he excelled at.

"I'm serious!" Matthew insisted, taking Tom's silence at the compliment as a sign of disbelief. "I could barely fly when I was a first year, or a second year—I could barely fly when I was third year, to be honest!" Matthew chuckled.

"And now that you're a fifth year?" Tom asked with a lifted brow.

Matthew chuckled. "Now…it's still just barely—but I make it look convincing!"

Tom threw his head back and laughed, and was soon joined by Matthew. When he first met the tall, blond English boy, and then newly appointed captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, he never would have suspected that the boy would become one of his closest friends, despite their differences in upbringing and age. Matthew was a kinder version of Tom's older brother Kieran, who while growing up did everything he could to avoid his younger brother.

"It's one thing to master flying a broom," Tom sighed when their laughter had finally managed to settle down. "But quite another to chase after a tiny, speeding, golden ball."

Matthew shrugged his shoulders. "I've seen the way you fly on that thing; you could do it if you wanted to. You could become one of the greatest players in this school's history, I have no doubt." He let out a mock-weary sigh then. "If only you were in Gryffindor..."

Tom rolled his eyes and shoved at Matthew's shoulder. Even though they were joking, Tom couldn't deny that it was the only downside to their friendship, that they both belonged to different houses. However, he didn't regret being sorted into Hufflepuff, not at all; how could he? When his best friend was in that house alongside him…

A smile spread across Tom's face as it so often did when he thought about Sybil. She wasn't like any posh girl that he had ever met before. Actually, she wasn't like any other person he had met before. When Tom had boarded that train to go to Hogwarts, he didn't think it was possible for him to ever feel at ease. However, after meeting her and shaking her hand, despite the harsh whispers murmured by her sisters, he felt that nervous tension melt away…and it only melted further when the Sorting Hat announced that she was to join him in Hufflepuff.

"_This is wonderful!"_ Sybil had excitedly whispered after she hopped down from the stool and rushed over to the Hufflepuff table, not hesitating to take the vacant spot beside him. Tom swallowed and stared at her with wide eyes, though he couldn't help but smile at the way she addressed him, as if they had been friends for years.

And that was exactly how it felt. She always sat next to him at meals, walked beside him to most of their classes (during their first year they had shared four of the same classes, and now in their second year, they shared five), and when it came to studying, Sybil always made sure to find an open nook that could accommodate the pair of them at the Hogwarts Library. She was very studious (not that Tom wasn't) but he couldn't help but sometimes find it fascinating that she wasn't in Ravenclaw, or Slytherin for that matter, what with her drive to do well, though there were only a handful of Slytherin's that Tom could tolerate (most of them were from old, aristocratic, pure-blood families that looked down their noses at people like himself).

But then he would remember the Sorting Hat's words about Hufflepuff:

_"You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
where they are just and loyal;  
those patient Hufflepuffs are true,  
and unafraid of toil."_

And of course it made perfect sense that Sybil Crawley had been placed there.

Tom still recalled how just the other day, when he had gone to the library to join her for their usual afternoon study session, he found her pouring over a book, a deep frown set on her face, and only when he tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention, did she bother to look up.

"_Oh Tom, this is beastly!"_

_His eyebrows shot up at the indignation in her voice. "What? What's beastly?"_

_Instead of directly telling him, she pointed to the page she had been reading. "House Elves…" Tom murmured, reading several lines. He lifted his eyes to meet hers then, and saw that her face was going from an angry red to a furious purple. _

"_I had no idea…" she muttered, her hands clenching into fists. "Downton hasn't had any House Elves since I was baby; apparently Papa doesn't care for them, though I know several families that we are acquainted with that have some, though they rarely make an appearance when I have visited, but that's beside the point," she groaned, surprising him by slamming her fist down on the book. "Last night, I was coming back from the Astronomy Tower, when who should I pass but Larry Grey!"_

_Tom instantly made a face when he heard the name. Thank God this year he had no classes with the bastard. But last year he had had two, and both of them had been classes without Sybil. Larry Grey was in the same year as both he and Sybil, though he acted and behaved like he had already passed his O.W.L's. He enjoyed nothing more than making other students lives completely miserable, especially students that, in his opinion, shouldn't be there (much less share the same oxygen he breathed). He especially had hard opinions on students who weren't pure-blooded…and while Larry Grey wasn't the first to use the slur, he had on more than one occasion hissed "mud-blood" in his ear._

_Of course, Larry had backed off a little bit, when Tom corrected a mistake in potions that Larry had foolishly made when he dumped an entire vial of dragon's blood into his cauldron in order to finish first, that could have resulted in blowing up the room, had Tom not been quick to counter the reaction by tossing in some phoenix tears. Tom had earned twenty points for Hufflepuff, and Larry had lost twenty points for Slytherin._

"_What happened?" Tom asked, looking at his friend with concern. It was one thing if Larry wanted to bully him; he was only twelve, but Tom knew how to handle and take care of himself in a fight (not that he could imagine Larry doing something so "muggle-like" as throwing a punch). But the thought of the git bullying Sybil caused his own fists to clench—_

"_He was kicking a house elf!" Sybil gasped. "I don't know entirely what happened, but I highly doubt it was the poor creature's fault! And the way Larry was snarling at the frightened thing…" she shook her head in utter disgust. "I couldn't just stand there, Tom! I had to say something, so I stepped forward and shouted at him to leave the elf alone, but Larry looked at me, told me to 'mind my own business', and the elf scampered away, muttering apologies as it went, and before I could turn and berate Larry some more, he disappeared around the corner," her let out a weary sigh, before once again pointing at the open book before her. "So I've been reading up on House Elves, trying to learn all that I can—and I didn't realize that…that they're SLAVES!"_

_Tom's eyes widened and his eyebrows lifted. Despite Sybil's brilliance (because in Tom's opinion, she really was brilliant) she could be terribly naïve sometimes about the "ways of the world", or specifically, "the ways of the upper classes". Of course Tom had never grown up with a house elf. Only the oldest magical families, and the wealthiest, kept the creatures in their service. Though even that was a misleading term, because yes, as Sybil had said, House Elves weren't servants like a maid or a footman, but slaves to serve their master or mistress until the gift of clothes was finally bestowed upon them. _

"_It's absolutely disgusting," Sybil muttered, before closing the book with a frustrated huff. Tom agreed with her, but apparently his reactions were not what she was expecting. "I thought you would be more outraged?" she questioned. _

_Tom sighed and finally sat down in his chair. "I am, Sybil, but…well…this sort of mistreatment isn't 'brand new', it's been going on for years—centuries, even."_

_Sybil's eyes widened at his words. "I…well, I…I know that!" she snapped back, though he could see a shameful blush covering her cheeks. He didn't mean to embarrass her, that hadn't been his intention. _

_Sybil lifted her chin and adopted that haughty expression he had long since learned to be "the Crawley glare". "Alright, so…so it's nothing 'new', as you say, but…well, that's no excuse not to be indignant about it!"_

"_I agree," Tom answered, his voice a bit calmer. "But what can be done?"_

_Sybil's eyes widened again and he noticed how her purple face paled at his words in shock. "Tom Branson! I can't believe that you would say something so apathetic—"_

"_No, I'm not saying 'it's no use, nothing can be done'," he quickly corrected. "I'm asking you, 'what can be done'? What do you think we can do to help House Elves?"_

_Sybil slowly sank down into the chair opposite of him and chewed her lower lip in thought. "Well…the obvious answer is to provide them with clothes, as that is how they win their freedom."_

"_True, but it's not that simple."_

"_No," Sybil sighed, and Tom couldn't help but smile, because he knew she was thinking about the problem and searching for solutions. "Last night…that poor elf kept apologizing to Larry…the creature was terrified! And yet he seemed to be even more afraid of my…interference…than Larry giving him another kick."_

"_And why do you think that is?" Tom asked, leaning forward a bit._

"_Because…" she paused for a moment and then looked up at Tom as if she had just made a grand discovery. "Because…if the elf obeyed, he knew he wouldn't be punished…but…who knows what would happen to him had he stayed and allowed me to further interfere, and not knowing something can sometimes be even more frightening."_

"_That's right," he nodded his head. "My mam would sometimes say that 'the devil you know is less frightening than the devil you don't'."_

"_Ignorance is the problem!" Sybil gasped, her hands falling down on the table between them. "Because those that have the power know that they can use ignorance as a means to keep the elves under their control!"_

_Despite the subject matter, Tom was grinning because of Sybil's understanding. "Exactly, because if you think about it...House Elves hardly know a life other than 'service'."_

"_They're not prepared or even given the opportunity to consider that there is something beyond it," Sybil continued._

_Tom nodded. "And that is exactly the excuse the toffs give, that they're doing the House Elves a 'favor' by keeping them—"_

_He paused as he suddenly realized what he had said, or rather…the word he had just used in front a girl who came from a family of "toffs"._

_Yet if Sybil was insulted, she didn't show it. In fact, she was nodding her head in agreement! "You're right, of course, which goes back to what I said, about how those that have the power use ignorance as a weapon to both control others, as well as an excuse to keep things as they are…oh Tom, it's more than just the House Elves; I mean, this is the same sort of logic used in denying women the right to vote!"_

"_Or giving the Irish their freedom," he muttered, though more to himself. _

_But Sybil had heard, and she gave him a sympathetic smile. "And the only way to combat ignorance is with knowledge."_

_He met her gaze and smiled…and then felt something squeeze his hand, and it was only then that he realized when he looked down on the table between them, that her hands were on top of his. _

Yes, this had been one of the many reasons why the Sorting Hat had selected Hufflepuff for Sybil; she was wise and clever, brave and ambitious, but perhaps more than anything, she had a compassionate heart that craved justice and that wasn't afraid of working to see it through.

_So much for studying_, he chuckled to himself as he once again recalled their time in the library. Instead, the two of them had brainstormed ways in which they could help the House Elves, ways to educate other students about the horrible treatment of the elves, and before the library closed for the evening, had documented a letter for the headmaster, as well as a petition that Sybil wanted to place in the Hufflepuff common room for fellow students to sign. _"And then we'll pass it on to the others!"_ she had declared, though Tom wondered if it anyone in Slytherin would sign it.

"Best be going in," Matthew sighed, breaking Tom from his thoughts. "But think about what I said! You really could be a great Quidditch player!"

Tom smiled and nodded his head, though more to humor Matthew than anything else. "I'll keep it in mind," he chuckled.

Matthew rolled his eyes, knowing Tom was humoring him. "See that you do," he sighed, and then a smirk began to spread across his face. "At the very least, you could be a beater. And don't tell me that you wouldn't enjoy hitting a bludger at Larry Grey."

Tom paused for a moment, imagining this. Larry had just joined the Slytherin team…

"When are tryouts again?"


	3. Year Three

_Thanks again for reading! Chugging along still! And if you haven't guessed, yes, there will be seven, possibly eight chapters to this story, one for each year of their lives at Hogwarts, and very likely an epilogue at the end. _

_Now, I don't remember what all would have been covered on a student's O.W.L. exams, but I decided to make it a little bit of everything, including one area that is "most basic" for a witch or wizard, but sometimes it's those "basic things" that we struggle with at school. Anyway, just go with it ;o)_

_Again, thank you for reading and reviewing! I hope you continue to enjoy!_

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_Chapter Three_

_1914_

Sybil smiled from she sat in the Quidditch stands overlooking the pitch. She had brought her charms text book with her to study, but she was far too engrossed in watching various members of the Hufflepuff Team practice…including the team's newest beater.

WHACK!

Sybil gasped as Tom sent a bludger soaring, before lifting her gloved hands and clapping enthusiastically for his hit. "Well done!" she called out, smiling as he turned and smiled back and even lifted his hand to wave—before quickly turning his attentions back to the returning bludger just in time to give another solid whack.

He was really very good, Sybil observed, though she wasn't too surprised; after all, he had quickly excelled at flying a broom when they were first year students, and last year he could just fly circles around all the other students, including those that were sixth and even seventh years! But his excellent flying skills weren't enough to convince the then Hufflepuff captain to put Tom on the team. Told Tom to come back and try out again when he was a third year, and in the meantime to work on his skills at beating a bludger. With Matthew's help, Tom improved and not only made the team, but had quickly become one of its star players! Matthew would mutter that perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea, tutoring Tom—Gryffindor had been undefeated until they had played Hufflepuff last week.

"Ugh, _why_ did we have to meet out here?" a voice groaned from over her shoulder. Sybil turned and offered a smile to her sister, despite Edith's sour expression. "Lord, it's freezing," Edith grumbled, her frown only darkening as she plopped herself down right next to Sybil. "Alright, what was so important that I had to be dragged away from the library?"

Despite her sister's grim mood, Sybil continued to smile and moved a little closer to help block out some of the late autumn chill. "How are your O.W.L.'s coming?"

Edith groaned and rolled her eyes as the question. "Much better when I was inside the warm confines of the Hogwarts Library!" she all but spat, growing more and more annoyed by the second.

Sybil sighed, knowing it would be better for everyone if she just came right out and told her sister why she had asked her to meet her at the Quidditch pitch. "I understand that you're having some difficultly with the more 'practical' side to the exams?"

Edith frowned at this. "Every part of one's O.W.L.'s are practical! Honestly, I don't know why you would think—"

"No, you misunderstand," Sybil interrupted. "I mean, I know that…well, that you've always struggled when it comes to mounting a broom and flying…"

Edith immediately turned a dark shade of red at her sister's words, however she didn't contradict them.

"…And I know that you want your O.W.L.'s to be perfect…"

It was true, of course. Mary had gotten perfect marks on her O.W.L.'s when she had taken the exams last year, and Edith couldn't abide the thought of not getting at the very least, an equal score.

"…And while I know that you're very studious, and would hardly need any help in a class like Potions or Charms or even Defense Against the Dark Arts—"

"Oh yes, fine," Edith groaned. "Yes, yes, I admit, I can manage to sit on a broomstick whilst floating above the ground, much less ride one while flying…" She lowered her head in her hands, looking utterly mortified at the confession. "Some witch I am…can't even ride a proper broom."

Sybil reached forward and put a gentle hand on Edith's shoulder. "But I have the solution!"

Edith lifted her head and looked at her sister with curious eyes, though there was some wariness in them as well. "What solution?"

Sybil's grin only grew wider, and without even saying a word, she simply made a gesture with her hand towards the Quidditch pitch, or rather, towards the sky where a certain Irish Hufflepuff third year was flying and zooming and whipping through the air with the greatest of ease.

"I don't get it."

Sybil groaned and rolled her eyes. "Tom, Edith! Tom is the solution!"

Edith's brow furrowed. "Tom?" She looked out at the Quidditch pitch again, following Sybil's finger at who she was pointing. And then suddenly realization struck her_. "BRANSON!?"_ she gasped, turning and looking at Sybil as if she had grown a second head.

Sybil frowned at her sister's tone. "Don't say his name like that! He's not a boggart," Sybil grumbled.

Edith pressed her lips into a thin, disapproving line. "You know that Papa doesn't approve of you being friends with him. He blames Branson entirely for that silly business with the House Elves—"

_"Tom_, Edith, his name is _Tom_," Sybil muttered. Yes, she remembered her father's outburst over the summer, how angry and "disappointed" he was by her "rash" behavior. All she had done was write an article and sent it to the Daily Prophet (with Tom's help), about the unjust and barbaric treatment of House Elves. "And I don't care what Papa says; Tom is a wonderful boy and I will not give him up!"

Edith eyed her in that way that made Sybil squirm, somewhat. It was similar to the look that Edith often gave Mary whenever Matthew was mentioned.

"Look, Tom is the best flyer in all of Hufflepuff, and one of the best in Hogwarts' history, according to Prof. Hughes," Sybil proudly stated, as she recalled what the head of her house had told them after one of Hufflepuff's Quidditch games. "He's the perfect person to teach and help you with mastering a broom!"

Edith still didn't look so convinced. "He's just a third year-"

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Sybil groaned, her temper growing short. Hufflepuff's were known for their patience, but it was Sybil's most "un-hufflepuff" like quality. "Do you want help or not?"

It was now Edith's turn to squirm. In one hand, she feared their father's wrath if he found out that she was continuing to encourage her baby sister's friendship with the Irish muggle-born by accepting this offer and allowing Branson to help her with broomstick flying...but on the other hand, she really couldn't stand the idea of Mary lording it over her for the rest of her life that she had gotten perfect marks on her O.W.L.'s, while she, Edith, _a Ravenclaw_, had not. And especially in something as basic as "broomstick flying".

"Alright..." Edith finally muttered with a sigh. "But what makes you think he'll do it in the first place?"

Sybil rolled her eyes. "I'll ask him, of course!"

"Branson-"

"Tom!"

Edith now rolled her own eyes. "Fine, _Tom_," she corrected. "He may have 'better things to do' than waste his free time-"

"TOM!" Sybil cried, smiling and waving her hands high overhead for her friend, and Edith's face turned a dark shade of red.

"What are you doing!?" she hissed, but Sybil ignored her and continued to wave her hands.

In a few seconds, the Irish muggle-born whom they had been discussing guided his broomstick over to their side, panting slightly from the rigorous practice he and his fellow Quidditch players had been having. He was smiling as he drew closer, however as soon as his eyes darted over to see whom Sybil's companion was, that smile began to fade. He swallowed and gave a slight nod of his head to Sybil's sister. "Lady Edith," he murmured in greeting, though one could hardly call it warm and welcoming.

Edith nodded her head in return. "Branson," she greeted back. Sybil shot her a look, and Edith sighed, before turning her eyes once again to the boy and said, "I mean...Tom."

Tom's brow furrowed in confusion, clearly not used to hearing anyone outside of his friends call him by his first name, and certainly not by another member of the Crawley family. But before the confusion could settle, Sybil was speaking up to explain the meaning behind their strange little gathering.

"Tom, Edith, as you know, is in her fifth year, and is working on her O.W.L.'s at the moment."

Tom nodded his head, offering Edith what could only be described as a slight "sympathetic" smile, but continued to still look a bit confused at the purpose of their meeting.

"And...well, she needs some help with one section of-"

"Oh for heaven's sake," Edith muttered, her embarrassment reaching a fever pitch. "Look, Bran-I mean, Tom," Edith interrupted. "Sybil called you over here and summoned me all the way out here because she thinks that you can help me with..." she took a deep breath, swallowing her pride. "With flying a broom."

Tom's eyes widened slightly at listening to Edith, and then his brow furrowed once again. "You...you don't know how to fly a broom?"

"OF COURSE I KNOW HOW TO FLY A BROOM!" Edith sputtered, before quickly glancing nervously around, hoping no one else had heard her. "I...I just don't fly one very well," she admitted.

Tom glanced at Sybil, who looked back at him with hopeful eyes. "I know it's a lot to ask with your busy schedule, especially now with Quidditch, but...do you think you can help her? You're the best flyer in the school's history-oh stop rolling your eyes, YOU ARE!" Sybil insisted. "And..." she glanced at her embarrassed sister, before looking back at her friend. "Well, I know that you will not judge or be unkind to Edith...or anyone, really," Sybil's lips curled into a smile then as she held his gaze. "It's not in your nature."

Now it was Tom's turn to turn red. "That's flattery I don't deserve."

"Poppycock," Sybil dismissed, before giggling as she poked her tongue out at him, especially after the gasp Edith gave at the "un-ladylike" gesture. "So Tom? Will you do it? Will you help?"

He glanced at Edith who looked back at him, a little warily from what Sybil could see, but also a little hopeful as well. Despite her sister's pride and long-held obedience to their father, Sybil knew that deep down, Edith's longing for perfection would win in the end.

Tom sighed, ran a hand through his hair and then gave a resolute smile before nodding his head. "Of course, if Lady Edith wishes it."

Sybil opened her mouth to gasp, "Of course she does!" but stopped when Tom gave her a look that more or less told her, _"let your sister speak for herself."_

Edith, however, despite her earlier display of snobbery, was actually beaming at this announcement. "Oh goodness, thank you, Branson, thank you!"

"_Tom_, Edith," Sybil muttered under her breath. Her sister-both of her sisters, actually-really needed cease calling him "Branson" as if he were just another servant or something.

"When shall we begin?" Edith asked, sitting a little more forward.

Tom glanced back at the pitch, taking note that the rest of his teammates had gathered the Quidditch equipment and left them alone, and so he smiled at his new "pupil" and held his arms out to his side, before answering, "why not now?"

Edith's smile of relief instantly disappeared. _"NOW!?"_

"We have the pitch to ourselves, and I take it that this is something you would rather not advertise..."

Sybil did her best to hide her laughter behind her gloved hand.

Edith, her face red again, glanced around and then sighed and nodded her head. Tom grinned and made a gesture towards the field below. "There are some extra brooms in the Quidditch supply shed."

She sighed but rose from where she stood, giving Sybil a look of warning_-"don't you dare laugh or say any of this to Mary!"-_before turning and leaving the stand to go and fetch herself a broom. As soon as Edith had stepped away, Sybil let out her giggles and then turned back to Tom, her eyes shining with thanks. "Thank you, Tom, I knew you would help, thank you so much-"

"It's alright," he mumbled, his own face turning red once more. "And I'm glad to help, I mean that."

Sybil's smile grew and she gazed back at him in a way that caused her heart to beat a little bit faster, and her stomach to flip and flop, though not in an unpleasant sort of way. And then she remembered the look Edith had given her earlier, the one that made her squirm, and she coughed and looked back at the textbook in her lap. "Well, good luck to you both!"

Tom chuckled and gave a somewhat "dramatic" roll of the eyes. "Thanks, I think we're both going to need it," he sighed, before giving her a wink and flying away from the stands.

Sybil's heartbeat increased at the tiny gesture, and her face felt like it was burning. Good heavens...that had never happened before. Was she coming down with something? Surely that must be it...


	4. Year Four

_Sorry for the delay; I'm trying to stay on top of this story as much as possible. This was a fun chapter to write, for "obvious" reasons as you will soon see ;o) also, as I was going through HP lore in preparing/writing this story, I remembered how it was revealed that Hogwarts hadn't seen a Triwizard Tournament/Yule Ball in a *very* long time, when Harry and his friends are students. So let's just say, that when the Crawley sisters and Tom and Matthew were students at Hogwarts, *that* was when the last Yule Ball was held ;o)_

_Thanks again for all those who have been reading and leaving reviews. I really appreciate it and am glad you are enjoying this little exploration in DA/HP!_

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_Chapter Four_

_1915_

_Just ask her; don't be afraid, just walk up to her and say, "Sybil, would you accompany me to the Yule Ball?" _

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat and momentarily ceased his pacing as he contemplated this.

"She's going to laugh in my face," he groaned, lowering his head and covering it with his hands. This was hopeless. Absolutely hopeless. And it didn't make sense! Sybil was his friend—_his best friend!_ Something as…as _simple_ as asking her to accompany him to the Hogwarts Yule Ball should not be causing his palms to sweat or his stomach to twist!

…And yet it was.

For weeks, Tom had been agonizing about the stupid Yule Ball. He had no idea what to expect when he heard about the Triwizard Tournament, but a ball around the Christmas holiday was the last thing he had expected.

"_All students who are fourth year and higher are expected to attend!"_ Prof. Hughes had informed them. Tom didn't think it was fair, since he didn't have dress robes, and he was sure there were other students like him, students who came from either poor families that couldn't afford them, or muggle families that didn't know how to come by them. But Prof. Hughes had all the answers; she knew there would be students like himself in such a situation, and so had gone ahead and had special dress robes created for the occasion.

Well, there was no weaseling out of it now. Only now he was facing another dilemma; he had no partner to attend with him.

"_Edna is quite keen on you,"_ _Sybil had muttered to him one evening while they were studying._

_Tom made a face at the mention of the Slytherin girl. Edna wasn't posh like most Slytherins, but she was certainly ambitious! He also remembered how he had gotten thrown off his broom by a bludger in a match three weeks ago. He was in the school's medical wing, recovering from his tumble, when Edna surprised him by sauntering into the room, "cooing" over him, before plopping herself down on the bed next to him, whimpering, "oooohhhh poor Tommy…" _

_Sybil entered but a few seconds later, her eyes going wide at the sight of Edna cuddling his side, before turning her gaze onto him and giving him a dark glare._

_She didn't speak to him for several days. It was the longest he and Sybil had gone without speaking to each other._

"_I told you, I'm not interested," he had muttered back through gritted teeth. He couldn't deny he was a bit resentful of Sybil himself, refusing to let him explain and giving him the silent treatment._

_Even after they had made a "truce" and began talking to each other once again, things were still rather tense between the two of them._

"_I'm not going to go," Tom muttered after another long pause._

_Sybil dropped her pen and when Tom glanced up, noticed she was staring at him incredulously._

"_But…but you have to!"_

"_No I don't," he muttered, looking back down at his parchment. _

"_But Prof. Hughes said—"_

"_It's just a dance, Sybil," he groaned, before lifting his eyes again. _

_She didn't say anything, though he could tell there was something bothering her about his words. Then, after another long pause, she murmured, "well…maybe I won't go either; I mean, it's not like I have a partner or anything…"_

_The silence that hung between them suddenly felt very awkward. Tom swallowed and glanced up from his parchment to look at her, but she was looking down and writing furiously. Was she…trying to tell him something? It was hard to believe that Sybil didn't have a partner; he thought she was one of the prettiest girls in Hufflepuff…perhaps the entire school. Of course, there was more to beauty than just "good looks"; Sybil's beauty came from somewhere deeper—her kind heart, her good humor, her friendly nature, her passion for justice, her thirst for knowledge—_

_His face felt like it was on fire._

_Why did he care if she had a partner to the Yule Ball or not? Because he couldn't deny there was a part of him…that was secretly glad when she told him that she didn't have one. But why did that matter? Why did he feel that way? Why…?_

_He started gathering his things then, and Sybil gasped, grabbing their shared inkwell just in time before he managed to knock it over. "Where are you going?" she asked, looking at him with both concern and confusion._

"_I…" he couldn't look her in the eyes, it felt too…strange, for some reason. "I…I just remembered…I…I have something…to do…" Merlin's beard he sounded like an idiot, but he didn't care, he just made sure he had everything he had brought to the library, and without another look, hurried away from her, ignoring her voice as she called after him._

He had been a coward; he should have said something, he should have asked her right then and there, that day in the library when she had told him she didn't have a partner, if she would like to accompany him and be his partner to the Yule Ball. And why not? It wasn't uncommon for friends to go…and that's what he and Sybil were, of course! Friends…

Friends…

_Just_…friends?

The door that led up to the Hufflepuff girls dormitory opened, and Tom ceased his pacing, especially when the very person he had been thinking about emerged amongst a group of girls and caught his eyes.

"Um…I'll join you soon," Sybil said to her friends, who nodded their heads and continued on their way out of the room. "Tom?" she finally asked, no doubt noticing his agitated state. "Are you alright?"

"I…" _oh stop it! Just ask her! DO IT!_ "Willyouaccompanymetotheyuleball?"

Sybil's brow furrowed. "W-w-what?"

Tom groaned and shook his head, before taking a deep breath and repeating, "will you accompany me…to…to the Yule Ball?"

Silence.

He couldn't bear to look at her, he felt so embarrassed for botching it up the first time he spoke, and even though Sybil wasn't the sort to laugh at someone, he found himself waiting for it, because heaven knows he was a complete joke—

"I'd love to…"

Tom's turned his head so quickly, he actually winced at the whiplash he had no doubt given himself. But that didn't matter, she had said she would love to! She had said—

"…But…but I promised I would go with Tom Bellasis."

The smile that had begun to spread on his face fell faster than a stone, sinking to the bottom of a lake.

"Tom…Bellasis?" he murmured, repeating the name.

Sybil nodded. "From Ravenclaw," she whispered, her eyes looking down at her feet.

He knew who Tom Bellasis was. He was a sixth year, and the seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He was also a prefect, and often hailed by several teachers as one of Hogwarts best and brightest students.

Tom had nothing against Tom Bellasis; the bloke had always been decent to him, the few times they interacted, which was more often on the Quidditch pitch than anywhere else. But suddenly…Tom couldn't help but feel an intense…_dislike_ of the other boy.

"Oh," he finally replied.

Sybil was chewing on her bottom lip. "I…I'm sorry, he…he only asked me two days ago—"

_Two days ago._ The Yule Ball was taking place in three days from now. Had Sybil been holding off on saying "yes" to anyone for that long? He groaned and closed his eyes at his own stupid ego, wanting to believe that for some stupid reason, she had been holding out and waiting for him to have the courage to say something.

"Well…I…I'm glad," he answered, forcing a smile and nodding his head at her. "You deserve a good dance partner."

She was eyeing him in a way that seemed to say she doubted his words. He shouldn't be too surprised by that look—it was impossible to lie to her, she knew him far too well.

"I thought you weren't going to go?" she murmured, her eyes bashfully glancing down at her feet, before looking up at him once more.

"Well…Prof. Hughes is most insistent, and I don't want to take points away from our house by not going, so…" oh couldn't the floor just open up and swallow him?

Sybil nodded her head at his words. "Well…that was very nice of you," she finally replied. "I mean, your willingness to ask me, because I didn't have a partner."

Wait—did she think he was only asking her because he…pitied her? He repeated the words he had spoken to her in his head, and closed his eyes in frustration, as he could see why she would come to that conclusion.

"I asked you because I wanted to," he told her, the words coming out before he could stop himself. Oh God, now what?

Sybil's eyes widened at this as well, and Tom felt his stomach twist…as a smile began to spread across her face. She bit her lip and looked down again, but not before Tom could see her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. It was something he was starting to take more and more notice of…

"Well…maybe we can have a dance at the ball?"

Tom swallowed and found himself dumbly nodding his head. "Aye, I…I would like that," he replied, though in truth, he didn't know the first thing about dancing.

Sybil smiled at this and turned to leave…but paused, and then turned back and without warning, leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Good," she whispered, before finally turning again and practically skipping out of the common room to join her other friends.

How long he stood there, he wasn't sure. But his cheek was still tingling from where her lips had touched.

In the end, Tom did find someone to accompany him; Sybil's sister, Edith. Poor Edith did have a partner, another Ravenclaw named Michael, who was one of the participants in the Triwizard Tournament! But Michael had broken his leg in the most recent event, and naturally would not be able to dance. Because of the flying lessons Tom had given her, he and Edith had developed a bit of a camaraderie, and so when he had noticed her moping two days before the ball, he asked why, and then after hearing her story, asked if she would be "scandalized" to attend the ball with a "mere fourth year".

"I can't really dance," Tom had warned her. But that didn't matter, Edith was just happy to have a partner, even if it was _"just him"_ (to which she apologized later) but Tom didn't care. While he would do his best to be a good partner for Edith at the ball, if truth be told, all he could think about was the chance to dance with Sybil.

On the night of the ball, Hogwarts had been transformed. While the Great Hall was always festive looking around Christmas, it looked like…well, like a fairy palace, practically! His dress robes weren't so bad (simple; a dark forest green color), but he hated the fact that he was wearing white tie like a toff. Still, just one night, he told himself over and over. Edith looked very fine, wearing a sea green gown that seemed to shimmer when she moved. Even though the two of them were each other's partners for the ball, it was clear that Edith hadn't dressed to impress him, but Michael, the boy she would have accompanied had he not broken his leg, and who would sitting in a corner, his leg in a thick cast, looking longingly at her throughout the evening.

Tom glanced around the busy room, smiling as his eyes caught those of Matthew…who was dancing with Mary, of all people. Not that this surprised Tom; like Sybil and Edith, Tom also suspected that both Matthew and Mary were keen on each other, and there really could be no denying that when you looked at them now, dancing together…and the way their eyes seemed to be locked and focused on the other.

"Oh gracious!"

Tom turned to look at Edith, wondering what it was that had caused her to gasp, and his eyes followed hers…and grew large as he took finally took in the sight of his best friend, in—

"TROUSERS!?" Edith squeaked.

Sybil was beaming, smiling at the various shocked faces that were staring at her, as she practically floated into the room, adorned in blue silk trousers, like an Arabian princess.

"Did you know she was going to be wearing that?" Edith hissed at him, but Tom shook his head, though he still couldn't take his eyes off her. "Oh just wait until Papa hears about this," Edith groaned.

Sybil grinned at him and gave a little wave, and Tom couldn't help but grin back. Wow…she…she was absolutely stunning!

"Tom?" she turned then to "the other Tom", and patted his arm. "Would you mind if we exchanged partners for the next dance?"

Tom Bellasis glanced over at Tom and Edith, and then looked back and Sybil and gave a small nod, ever polite, though Tom wondered if the other boy was a bit disappointed that Sybil was denying him their first dance. Still, Bellasis was a good lad, and even gave Edith a bow before escorting her to the dance floor where Matthew and Mary were already dancing.

Sybil grinned and didn't hesitate to float to his side. "So? Do you think I've scandalized the entire wizarding world?" she giggled, doing a little turn for him, showing off her frock and giggling as she did.

"Absolutely," Tom laughed, admiring everything about her. "It suits you perfectly."

She beamed at this, and then without warning, stepped closer to him, taking his left hand in her right, and guiding his right hand to her waist. Tom suddenly paled as he realized what she was doing, and then he swore that his heart came to a stop as suddenly, she was only a few inches away from him.

"I…I um…" he nervously looked down and then back into her eyes—which really were the most extraordinary shade of blue. "I…I don't really know the steps."

She didn't laugh, nor did she try to tease him. She just smiled and pressed her left hand into his upper arm, while her right gripped his hand a little tighter. "You don't need to," she whispered, starting to sway a little to the music that was playing, encouraging him to do the same. "We'll make our own."


	5. Year Five

_This chapter got ANGSTY! Kind of like the 5th HP book in some respects :oP but we all knew this moment had to happen! But do not worry, we have two more school years to get through, plus an epilogue ;o) But still, I hope (despite the angst) you enjoy! Thank you again for reading and reviewing!_

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_Chapter Five_

_1916_

She had heard it said that one's fifth year was the hardest year at Hogwarts. While one's N.E.W.T.'s were a difficult task in their own right, they were nothing, so her sisters and other students had told her, compared to one's O.W.L.'s. And this certainly seemed to be the case as Sybil sat in the library late into the evening, the wax from her candle dripping down, the wick not much more than a stub. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, wishing not for the first time that she wasn't sitting in their nook, alone.

But alone she was, and had been so for the last few weeks.

She missed her best friend. She missed him terribly. But ever since the previous spring, Tom had been distant, for reasons Sybil was unsure. She had tried to approach him about it, but he made it clear he didn't want to talk about whatever was troubling him, which troubled her because…when had they not been able to talk to each other about anything?

Things were changing—things had changed, and it bothered her a great deal.

It also didn't help that so much was changing in the world around them. The muggle world, yes, but still, despite what her grandmother thought, the muggle world _did_ affect the wizarding world as well, and especially something like this terrible war that was raging across Europe.

Sybil sighed as she recalled the letter Mary had sent her two days ago. Matthew had enlisted back in September, shortly after both her and Edith had returned to Hogwarts. He had just now completed his training, and would be leaving for France within a few days. _"Damn Gryffindors,"_ Mary had sworn in her letter, something that Sybil was not accustomed to seeing her sister do, yet there was no doubt whatsoever now, that Mary had feelings for Matthew. She had shared the letter with Edith, who also looked concerned by this news, but in the end Edith simply told her to concentrate on her O.W.L.'s, as she would concentrate on her N.E.W.T.'s, and hope that before Christmas, the war truly would be over.

Yet the muggle newspapers had been saying this for two years now. And as far as Sybil could tell, the war was nowhere near an end.

Oh how she longed to speak about this with Tom, to hear his thoughts on the matter, as well as find some comfort and reassurance in his words.

But…he seemed to be avoiding her! Why? What had she done? Sybil put down her pen and scrunched her face up as she thought back to the previous weeks, trying to recall a moment where perhaps she had taken a joke too far and said something to upset him, or perhaps she had brushed aside something important and had hurt him by doing so?

_I did nag him a great deal about saying something to the headmaster in allowing girls to join the Quidditch team_, she thought to herself. For centuries, Quidditch was played by boys and boys only. But Sybil loved to fly her broom, and while she may not be as good at the sport as Tom was, still…girls should have the opportunity to participate and play just as much as a boy did! So after she returned for her fifth year, she had started pestering Tom into saying something, petitioning him to "lead their cause" and help win "equal rights for Quidditch".

Sybil sighed and sat up, blowing out her candle and gathering her things. No, there was more to it than that. Something else was bothering him, and it was her own fault for not pushing the matter and trying to learn what it was. She had thought that perhaps by leaving him alone, he would come around and seek her out and then tell her what was on his mind. But…she couldn't stand this absence. And clearly leaving him be and waiting for him to come to her was not the answer.

Feeling resigned and determined at what must be done, Sybil walked with purpose back to the Hufflepuff tower, smiling and nodding her head at the various ghosts she passed, but not pausing as she would normally to strike up a conversation. Upon finally reaching the tower and entering, she found the common room practically empty, save for a few fellow fifth years who, like her, were studying for their O.W.L.'s.

"John, Anna? Have either of you seen Tom?" she asked, nibbling her bottom lip. It wasn't that late; surely he hadn't gone to bed yet?

"I think he's in the owlery," John answered. "I saw him heading that way after supper; he's been spending a lot of time there as of late." He looked a little confused. "Didn't you know?"

Naturally they would assume that she would, since Tom was her best friend. Sybil swallowed and tried to hide her embarrassment. "Oh, of course! Yes, yes, of course, I um…I just thought he might be back," she mumbled, before turning on her heel…and slowly making her way to the common room door.

As soon as she was outside, she moved her feet quickly in the direction of the Hogwarts Owlery, John Bates' words replaying over and over in her head. _"He's been spending a lot of time there as of late…"_ Why? Why was Tom spending so much time in the owlery? He didn't have an owl of his own, like other students. Matthew had been kind and allowed Tom to use his, if he ever needed to send a message back to Ireland. And now that Matthew had finished, he had given Tom his owl.

She reached the tower where the owlery lay, and glanced around. It was very quiet here, in this part of the school, no doubt so that the owls could get some proper rest when they weren't flying and delivering messages. She climbed the ladder that led up to the top, noticing that the door to the tower was open, so…perhaps, just maybe…

"Tom…?"

She nibbled her lip as she poked her head inside. "Tom? Are you here?"

Silence.

And then, "…yeah."

"Oh!" Sybil quickly scrambled through the door and into the room, wincing as several owls hooted in protest at her rather clumsy and noisy entrance. "Tom! Oh thank goodness," she breathed, carefully moving through the tower, not wanting to disturb the owls further…or step on something they had left on the floor. She saw him sitting near a large, circular window, his eyes fixed on the night sky, his forearms resting on his knees. Sybil couldn't help but momentarily find herself somewhat transfixed by the image; Tom wasn't the tallest boy in Hufflepuff, but even though he was only fifteen, he was certainly becoming one of the most…muscular, if she were honest with herself. No doubt all those years of practicing in Quidditch as a beater had something to do with it. "John said I would find you up here," she explained, though she couldn't deny she felt rather ashamed to admit that. _I'm his best friend, I should have known he was coming here_, she berated herself.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, glancing at her just over his shoulder.

Sybil couldn't deny his question hurt a little. Was everything alright? No, of course it wasn't. The two of them hadn't properly spoken to each other for weeks! And even before this long silence had begun, things weren't...the same, as they had been in the past.

But she swallowed her wounded pride and quickly sat down next to him. "Yes, everything is...actually no, no, everything is _not_ alright," she stated, turning and looking directly at him. "Tom...we've hardly spoken to each other in weeks!"

He sighed and nodded his head. "Aye, I know."

Her brow creased with confusion, but the look on her face was one of concern, not annoyance. "What is it? What's the matter? Please..."

She reached for his hand then, but he moved it away before her fingers managed to touch his. She frowned and lifted her eyes to his face, and saw that...was he blushing? "Tom?"

He shifted slightly, as if pulling his legs a little closer to his body, like he was trying to move further away from her. Good heavens, what on earth was the matter? That concern she was feeling was starting to turn into annoyance, however before she could say anything, the screech of an owl drew her attention to the window, and Tom quickly leaned forward, opening the glass, so the creature could fly in.

"Is that-?"

"Neptune, yeah," Tom answered, helping Matthew's owl-well, _his_ owl actually-into the owlery, giving the bird a piece of fish from their supper, and then removing a note that was tied to it's leg. She didn't mean to pry, but she was curious as to what the message was on the owl's leg.

She watched Tom's face as he opened the letter, practically forgetting that she was sitting there next to him. His eyes scanned it quickly, and then she saw him let out a sigh, like one of relief, before stuffing the into a pocket on his robes. Sybil bit her lip, unsure what to say or do. Should she say something? Ask him what it was? It was an odd time to receive a letter-the post normally came in the middle of the afternoon, but...was this what Tom was doing so often in the owlery? Sending and receiving late night messages?

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye then, and even though she didn't prompt him, he did answer the questions that were running through her mind. He knew her so well.

"It's from my mam," he explained. "I...I've been writing home...a lot," he whispered. There was a long pause, but Sybil could tell there was more to be said, and so she simply sat and waited patiently for him to continue. However, when he spoke next, she was not prepared for the words that came out.

"I lost my cousin."

It took a moment for the weight of his words to register...but when they did, she felt as if a stone had been dropped in her stomach. "Oh...oh Tom," she whispered, and despite what had happened earlier, she did reach out to him and he didn't shrink away from her touch. "Oh Tom, I...I'm so sorry." It suddenly occured to Sybil just then that she had never experienced the sadness of losing someone. Both of her grandfathers had died before she was born, and while no doubt some of the older servants that had once served at Downton when she was a small child had died, they had retired and left the house long before that would have taken place. She honestly wasn't sure what to say, but her heart did squeeze with sympathy for her friend. "When did this happen?" she whispered.

He sighed and looked down at his hands, which were twisted together. "Last spring," he murmured. "Around Easter."

Sybil's eyes widened at this. _Last spring, around Easter._ When he began to become distant. And it had steadily gotten worse. Oh gracious why...why hadn't he said anything? And why hadn't she asked?

He chuckled then, a strange sound, because it wasn't like the usual chuckles he gave, when he found something truly humorous. No, this was bitter.

"It doesn't stop, you know...not for me," he murmured finally.

Sybil looked confused. "Doesn't stop?"

He shook his head. "When I leave this place? When I go back to Dublin at Christmas, or in the summer? It doesn't matter how long I've been coming here, or everything that I've learned, I still return to a muggle world, where I'm the only wizard in my neighborhood that I know of, and people either pretend not to know, or truly aren't aware of what I am...and where I'm going to school," he explained.

Sybil didn't know what to say. Coming from a pureblood family, it was practically impossible to imagine living in a world where magic and all its wonders were foreign. It was also strange to think that one would want to keep such information hidden, especially when her father was always boasting about the "glory" of not being a "common muggle".

"Just because I'm a wizard, doesn't mean that the muggle world stops," he explained again. "When I go back to Ireland, Syb, it's not a 'magical realm' that I return to, like Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley; it's the same Dublin as it was before I got my letter to Hogwarts, only it's become even more violent," he muttered with disgust. "Soldiers walk through the streets, arresting people they don't like the look of, and...and last spring, during the Rising-"

_The Rising_. Sybil had briefly heard about the Easter Rising (the _Daily Prophet_ always had a small section in the paper dedicated to news happening in the muggle world) but she had no idea how it truly had affected the people of Dublin...or Tom and his family. And she was suddenly ashamed to realize this.

"-I mean, my cousin wasn't even political! He was just walking, Syb! He was just walking down the street, and...and they shot him! As if he were an animal! They shot him and left him there to die, and when questioned why, they just shrugged their shoulders and said 'he was probably a rebel'!"

His voice was becoming more and more emotional as he spoke, and the anger was growing too. Sybil could understand, she felt tears sting the corners of her eyes as she listened to his story. A part of her desperately wanted to wrap her arms around him and hug him, but she didn't dare move, because she also knew that this was taking an incredible amount of strength for him to reveal and share with her. So she simply sat there and listened, wrapping her arms around her own body since she couldn't wrap them around his.

Tom paused and took a deep breath, before finally murmuring, "I didn't want to come back. I...I was so...so angry. I blamed myself, that I couldn't do anything, despite the magic I know," he muttered. "And I blamed the soldiers for the injustice of their actions. And...and all I felt was _hate_," he spat. "Hatred at so many things, and England was the last place I wanted to set foot upon," he growled.

Sybil swallowed, not saying anything, though her heart ached for him. Another long silence passed between them, and finally...Sybil lifted her eyes to his profile, and whispered, "I know it's selfish...but I'm glad you came back."

Another moment of silence passed, before Tom shook his head. "No, it's not selfish," he murmured. He lifted his eyes to hers then, and Sybil sucked in a breath at how...clear and deep they were. As if he were looking through her, to her very soul. "It's not selfish," he repeated. "Because the truth is..._you're_ the reason I came back."

Sybil blinked for several seconds as his words washed over her.

_You're the reason I came back._

Oh gracious...what should she say? What did he mean? They were best friends, but...but there was something more to his words, something deeper, something that in truth, frightened her a little...

"Sybil..." he turned to face her fully then, and Sybil's heart suddenly began to beat quite rapidly. "I've told myself and told myself you're too far above me...but...but the world is changing! And even if I have to go back to living the life of a muggle again when our time at Hogwarts is over, I'll make something of myself-"

"Oh Tom, I know you will!" Sybil cut in to reassure, though there was something about the way he was looking at her...and the way his hand was suddenly gripping hers, as if his life depended on it, as if he was receiving oxygen from just her touch alone. _Something's changed, something is different-_

"Then bet on me!"

Her eyes flew from their hands to his face, and she swore her heart stopped as she realized just how close they were now, his face only a few inches away from hers.

"Tom?" she whispered, her eyes moving back and forth from his own to his lips. Her throat suddenly felt very dry. "What...what...what are you saying?"

He looked disappointed then and he leaned away slightly. "Don't you know?"

She looked into his eyes once more, and felt herself moving towards him, as if drawn in like a magnet. He moved too, their breath mingling as they drew closer...

"No, I...I'm sorry," she interrupted, lifting her head away and shaking it. Good heavens, what had just happened? Or in truth, what was about to just happen? She felt confused, terribly confused, and...and afraid, too. Which was strange, because she never felt that way around Tom! What on earth was wrong with her?

A sigh escaped his lips, and he dropped her hands from his hold. Sybil looked up at him, and watched as he leaned away. She suddenly felt compelled to say something, anything! "Tom," she began, though he seemed to flinch slightly at her voice. "Tom, please, I...you're my best friend-"

"And you're mine," he replied. "Nothing will change that."

She smiled at this, though it was fleeting, because he did not return it. Rather, he looked heartbroken, which in truth broke her heart.

Oh heaven above, was he truly telling her what she thought he was telling her?

"Tom, I...I don't know what to say-"

"Then it's probably best not to say anything," he sighed, before rising to his feet.

Sybil stared at him, and quickly scrambled to her own as well. "Tom, please, I...I'm terribly flattered-"

"Don't," he stopped her, looking at her intensely. "Please...don't make fun of me."

"I...I wasn't-"

"It's cost me everything I've got to say these things."

"I wasn't teasing, I didn't mean...I...all I meant was-"

"I know what you meant," he muttered, moving away from her. "It's something posh people say when they're getting ready to say 'no'."

Sybil stared at him, her mouth hanging open. "Well...that sounds more like you," she mumbled, a part of her desperately trying to bring some lightness back this awkward moment, but a part of her was reeling as well. After all this time of avoiding her, he was now telling her that he...that he...

_That he loves me._

He stiffened and looked at her, and Sybil felt her heart break in half at the look of anguish and resentment on his face. But he didn't lash out at her, he didn't yell or accuse her or anything like that, he just sighed and stepped away from her. It was only a few steps, and yet it felt like a canyon.

"Right...well..." he shifted awkwardly on his feet. "When I go home for Christmas, I won't come back-"

_"WHAT!?"_ Sybil gasped, staring at him with horror. "NO! DON'T DO THAT!"

"Syb, it's for the best-"

"NO IT BLOODY ISN'T!" she stomped, her anger rising. "You said so yourself, Tom, we're _best friends_, NOTHING will change that! Did you mean it?" she challenged him.

He closed his eyes and sighed, but nodded his head. "I did," he whispered.

"Good!" she took a steadying breath, her arms hugging herself even tighter as the tears began to blur her vision. "Because...because I will never forgive either of us if you do leave!"

He looked at her and despite the deep sadness that she could see in his eyes...there was a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

"Would you put a curse on me?"

"Damn right I would!" she swore back at him, which actually made the both of them laugh. But it still hurt; everything still hurt. And nothing would be the same again.

"It's getting late," he whispered at last. "Best be going back."

Sybil mutely nodded her head, and moved quickly ahead of him, down the ladder, and then briskly back to the Hufflepuff tower, Tom but a few feet behind her.

They didn't speak the rest of the way. They didn't even say goodnight to each other when they parted ways in the common room, and he moved to ascend the stairs to the boys dormitory.

Sybil barely got any sleep that night. Her pillow was soaked from her tears. Oh Lord, how was she going to be able to concentrate on her O.W.L.'s now?

...and what did it matter, really? Tom Branson, without saying the exact words, had admitted that he was in love with her.


	6. Year Six

_Sorry for the delay! But the good news is we only have one more chapter left, plus an epilogue, and I am determined to finish the whole thing by the end of the month, so stay tuned! Things continue to progress for our young "potential" couple as they start to make plans for their futures. _

_Also, I was told that the Hufflepuff common room and quarters are actually in the basement/dungeons of Hogwarts-whoops! While I consider myself a fan, it has been a looooooooooong time since I picked up the books, so I apologize for that detail being missed :oP Anyway, I hope you are still enjoying this and please let me know what you think! THANKS FOR READING!_

* * *

_Chapter Six_

_1917_

Things were different, and not in the way Tom wished they were.

If truth be told, there were days when he regretted revealing his true feelings to Sybil, simply because he missed the closeness they once shared. Ever since their third year, he and Sybil would sit together in the Crawley's private train car, eating sweets from the trolley, and talking about upcoming classes, which professors they had for the year, the friends they would be reunited at seeing. It was always hard, leaving home again at the end of summer, but Sybil's friendship always made it easier to endure, and quickly reminded him why he loved going back to Hogwarts. It had nothing to do with the magical world he had unexpectantly inherited; it had everything to do with Sybil.

Mary only protested about Tom joining them in their train car that one time; she soon accepted the reality (even if she didn't agree with it) that no amount of protesting from any members of the Crawley family, including the imposing Earl of Grantham, was going to stop Sybil from being friends with someone like him—a working class Irish Catholic (and a muggleborn). Matthew was also always on his side, and Matthew had a way of softening Mary, even if the both of them were too stubborn to admit that they fancied each other. And thanks to the broomstick lessons he had provided Edith during his third year, soon there was another member of the Crawley family to whom he could call "friend".

The journey to Hogwarts last year had been different because not only was it the first time without Mary or Matthew, who had finished the year prior, but it was also coming back after the turbulent year with the Easter Rising. He hadn't been as warm or welcoming to Sybil on that journey, and part of that was because he had quickly realized (at last, if he were honest with himself) that his feelings for his best friend ran much deeper than friendship.

He was in love. He was in love with Sybil Crawley, a pureblood witch, and an English aristocrat to boot. And he honestly didn't know what to think. Was he a traitor to his people? His country? To the memory of his cousin who had died on that fateful Easter Monday? And what were her feelings? There were times when…when he thought for certain she felt the same way as he; moments when he caught her eyes looking at him, the way she sometimes blushed when they spoke. But then there were moments when he was certain she didn't return his affections; that she was simply being her lovely, kind self, like any decent Hufflepuff. And it was because of these conflicts and anxieties that he had avoided her at the start of their fifth year. But he should have known better; he should have realized that this was not the answer, because sure enough, her curiosity did get the better of her, and she did seek him out, and more or less demanded an answer from him, and then the whole truth was revealed at last…

And now things were different. And again, not in the way Tom wished they were.

It was their sixth year now, and Sybil was the only Crawley left, still attending Hogwarts. Tom would have relished that moment, being alone with her at last in her family's train car, but after the revelation of his feelings, things were just too awkward. So instead, Sybil invited other members of Hufflepuff House to join them in the car, and like the previous years, they all ate sweets and talked about classes and teachers, but the excitement that was once felt had completely vanished, or at least it had for him. That journey, he sat near the window and gazed out at the rolling pastures of the English countryside, feeling more homesick than ever before.

He had hoped that once the new school year truly got under way, the melancholy would lift. He was captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team now, and two weeks after the new school year had started, Prof. Hughes called him into her office, smiling and informing him that after many long weeks of discussion, the Hogwarts school council ruled in favor of granting female students permission to tryout and join the various house Quidditch teams.

Such news would have made Tom grin from ear to ear in the past. In the past, he would have ran from Prof. Hughes' office, and seek out Sybil right away, telling her the good news, before encouraging her to tryout (she would make a brilliant seeker!) But Sybil had lost interest in Quidditch; she hadn't even come to last few matches the previous school year. No…Sybil's interests and focus had changed completely.

Nursing.

The art of magical healing.

This was where her passion now lay. And this would be where he would find her, no doubt (if he chose to go looking).

Now it was he who would sit in their nook in the library, all by himself. He, who would go and eat his meals in solitude. He, who would ask others in the Hufflepuff common room if they had seen Sybil. And while no one said anything, it was apparent to everyone that something had happened between the both of them. And it wasn't anything good.

Not that he blamed her for this new interest in nursing and magical healing. Sybil only wanted to "do her part". The War was raging across the Continent. As much as the wizarding world tried to ignore it and pretend it was only a "muggle matter", more and more wizards were joining and volunteering for various posts in the army, from Matthew, to Sybil's friend, Tom Bellasis, of Ravenclaw. In fact…it was Tom Bellasis (or rather, his death), that had moved Sybil to take action.

"_Tom! What's the matter with Sybil?"_

_He was reading in the common room, but looked up at the sound of Anna's question, surprised and started by it. "W-w-what?" he stammered, a cold chill running down his spine. Oh no, what was it? What had happened? Why was Anna asking him that? What did she know? What _didn't_ he know? But that he should, because…because she was still his best friend?_

"_We were sitting together at breakfast, and her owl suddenly appeared! Brought her a telegram, but I don't know what it says; but as she read it, she sucked in a breath and her eyes started clouding with tears, and when I asked her what was the matter, she didn't say anything! She just…leapt to her feet and ran away! Have you seen her? We have History of Magic together, and she wasn't there!"_

_That wasn't like Sybil to skip a class. She had a rebellious streak, certainly, just like him, but she loved her classes and even when she had been in the ill in the past and had to miss something, she hated it. So for her to purposefully not go…something must be bothering her._

"_I'll see what I can find out," he promised, before rising from his place and leaving the common room, though where he was going…he didn't quite know._

_The thing was, he and Sybil didn't have many secrets, and that included "secret places" to hide. He checked their nook in the library, several classrooms, the owlery, even the Quidditch pitch—but she wasn't at any of those places. Now he was worried that something horrible had happened to her (she wouldn't go into the forest, would she?) and was a step away from reporting her as missing to the headmaster, when Prof. Hughes saw him and called out. "Oh Mr. Branson! I do trust that Lady Sybil is alright?"_

_Tom froze and looked at the professor. Did she know something he didn't? _

"_I saw her in the infirmary; she was speaking with Dr. Clarkson—she looked distraught, the poor dear," the mistress of Hufflepuff explained._

_Tom's eyes widened at the woman's words. "The infirmary?" he whispered._

_Prof. Hughes nodded her head, though now she was frowning with confusion. "Yes…I thought perhaps you knew, since the two of you are such good friends…?"_

_Tom felt shame fill him at her question. "Aye, we are," he answered (which he hoped was still true). "Thank you, professor," he murmured, before turning and swiftly walking to where Prof. Hughes had last seen Sybil, ignoring any further questions the teacher was calling out. He soon found himself running, ignoring the ghosts and painted figurines who tsked and tutted at him as he raced through the school's halls and up it's moving staircases. He didn't stop until he finally reached the infirmary, and only then did he slow down upon hearing Sybil's voice._

_She was talking…and there were two other voices talking as well. He peeked around the corner and saw Dr. Clarkson, as well as an older woman standing next to him, looking very sympathetic as Sybil spoke._

"_I…I mean…we…we weren't that close, but…but still…his cousin, Imogen…we practically grew up together, and…" she paused to blow her nose. _

_Tom felt his heart shatter at the sight of her sweet face, pink and puffy from crying. What was it that had happened?_

"_Sometimes…" Sybil murmured after taking a few deep breaths. "Sometimes it feels as if all the boys I've ever danced with are dead…"_

_Tom's brow furrowed at her words. What…what was she…?_

"_This isn't right…people like Tom, so…so young and full of life! They go out and give their lives, while…while I—while all of us, just…just CONTINUE as if nothing has happened! It isn't right!"_

_Tom had frozen at the sound of his name. However, he quickly realized it wasn't him that she was talking about but another Tom…and that was when he made the connection._

_Tom Bellasis. _

"_Oh my dear," the woman sighed, wrapping her arms around Sybil. "I'm so, so sorry…" _

_Sybil leaned into the woman and sobbed against her shoulder. Tom's arms ached then, wishing he could be the one to provide her that comfort, but grateful all the same that someone she clearly knew and trusted was there to give her that._

_After a few moments, Sybil's sobs became sniffles, and finally she lifted her head and gazed back at the woman in whose arms she was finding peace from her grief. "Thank you for coming at such short notice, Cousin Isobel," she whispered, wiping her eyes, and then thanking Dr. Clarkson for the handkerchief he offered._

_Cousin Isobel? It was then that Tom recalled that Matthew's mother (whom he had never met) was named "Isobel". Was this that woman? _

"_You're very welcome my dear, but it's Dr. Clarkson who deserves your thanks in contacting me via the floo system," she murmured, turning to the doctor and smiling at him, who looked down and blushed._

_Sybil gave the man a thankful smile, before turning back to her cousin and releasing a frustrated groan. "I am sad for Tom…and his family. But…but I…I just can't stand how we're not doing anything! Good people like him and Matthew, volunteering to help and do their part, while the rest of the wizarding world chooses to do nothing, simply muttering that it's nothing more than a 'muggle war'! And not just this, but…but ANY struggle! I mean, what's happening in Ireland for example! The injustice being done there! The wizarding world chooses to remain silent rather than respond to any of it!"_

_Tom couldn't deny he was surprised by Sybil's passionate words. They hadn't really spoken that much about what was happening in Ireland…or in the muggle world in general. While he would read the Daily Prophet like other wizards, he would also read muggle newspapers too, something that set him apart from many of his fellow witches and wizards. And while he himself wasn't in favor of the War that was raging on the Continent and Britain's role in it (and its insistence that Ireland should also send her sons to do battle, while denying them their independence), he did think that the wizarding world's choice to simply "ignore" everything that was happening, because it was only "affecting muggles", wasn't right. On that, he agreed with Sybil._

"_I just…I wish there was more that I could do," Sybil groaned. "I want to do real work, have a real job! Because…" she paused as if remembering something, before continuing. "Because when my time here at Hogwarts is over…I'll return to my life at Downton as if nothing has changed. The world back home doesn't stop, simply because I am here."_

_One corner of his mouth lifted at hearing Sybil's words, remember something being said to her in a very familiar manner when she had found in him the owlery. _

_It was strange, he realized; he had never really given it much thought, sadly, as to what it would be like for Sybil, when she returned to Downton. He had made the assumption that because her family were purebloods, they would have a better grasp on understanding all that was happening in the wizarding world, and the various opportunities that witches faced. But based on what little he had just heard…it sounded as if Sybil would simply be returning to a world where, like other nobleman's daughters, she would be thrust back into the "marriage market", sent to London to "do the season" until someone her father thought worthy stepped forward and asked for her hand in marriage. And everything that she, and both her sisters had done while students at Hogwarts, would have been for naught. _

_Yes, there was something noble about learning for the sake of learning, but this was different. This was feeding a young mind and then denying it the chance to do more. _

"_Perhaps…" Tom lifted his head as he heard Mrs. Crawley speak. "Perhaps…Dr. Clarkson could use an assistant here, in the infirmary?"_

_Dr. Clarkson looked rather surprised by the woman's suggestion, but Sybil was looking back and forth between the two of them, her eyes wide but a look of hope illuminating her features. "Truly?"_

_Without waiting for an answer from the doctor, Mrs. Crawley nodded her head and continued. "Yes, because when I was a student at Hogwarts, Sybil—Hufflepuff as well," she winked. "I would serve as an assistant to the doctor, and then once I had finished my education, decided to take the knowledge I had acquired, both in the classroom and in the infirmary, and apply it to becoming a nurse! And I think you would make a fine nurse, Sybil, wouldn't you agree Dr. Clarkson?"_

_Tom was nodding his head in agreement, even though the question hadn't been directed at him. Indeed, Sybil would make a fine nurse. And she excelled in Potions, a class whose knowledge she could easily use in such a subject. And a profession that was needed, not only in the wizarding world, but the muggle one too! She could be in both if she so chose! _

"_Granted, I am biased," Mrs. Crawley chuckled. "But I always felt that Hufflepuffs make the best nurses and physicians."_

_Sybil was grinning from ear to ear now, and looking at Dr. Clarkson with so much eagerness. "May I, Dr. Clarkson?"_

_The doctor did seem a little hesitant, but in the end gave a sigh and nodded his head. "Yes, yes of course, Lady Sybil—or shall I say, 'Nurse Crawley'."_

_A joyful sound bubbled up from her throat then, and Sybil once again threw her arms around her cousin, hugging the woman tightly and thanking her over and over again for the comfort and help she had provided._

_Tom smiled too, but decided to slip away without letting Sybil know he was there, feeling as if he were intruding. Besides, he didn't want to steal her thunder in telling him about what had happened, which he dearly hoped she would. _

_And she did; that night, at dinner. She told him…_and_ everyone else, gathered around them._

_And he was happy for her…but sad, as well. If there wasn't a chasm growing between the both of them, there certainly was now. And while he was glad she had found something, a "purpose for her life" as she would call it…at the same time, he felt like he was losing his best friend._

"Or perhaps it's worse than that?" he murmured to himself as he closed the door to Prof. Hughes' office. "Perhaps I've already lost her?"

Still…despite the changes that had happened in their lives, Tom didn't hesitate to go and seek her out, knowing exactly where to find her.

When she was in the infirmary, she didn't wear her usual school robes like other students. Instead, she was adorned in a simple gray dress, with a white apron and a white headscarf wrapped around her head. He stood in the infirmary doorway for a while, watching as she bustled about, holding what looked like a teapot and refilling a few mugs to the infirmary's three patients (two Ravenclaws who were still dressed in their Quidditch uniforms, and one Slytherin).

"Oh! Tom!" she gasped when looking over her shoulder and catching sight of him. He smiled and felt his heart warm at the bashful smile she gave back. "Are you alright? You're not feeling ill, are you?"

"No, no, I'm fine," he reassured, smiling again at how deeply she had fallen into the role of nurse. She was a natural, that was plain to see. "I um…I just wanted to tell you something, that's all."

She nodded her head and placed her teapot down, before moving over to where he stood so that her "patients" wouldn't be disturbed (and that they could have a little more privacy).

"I just came from Prof. Hughes' office; the school's going to allow girls to try out and play Quidditch."

Sybil's eyes widened at the news, and Tom couldn't help but smile at the delight he saw in their blue depths.

"Oh Tom, that's wonderful!" she gasped, practically leaping forward as if to hug him, an embrace he would most definitely would have welcomed, yet she seemed to realize what she was about to do…and stopped herself before carrying on.

He tried not to let his disappointment show, and stuffed his hands inside his pockets as he took a step back. "So…does this mean you'll be trying out?" he attempted to tease. "We need a new seeker."

Despite his attempt at being light-hearted, he felt his heart sink as he watched Sybil's smile fade. It sank even further as she took a step away from him, the gap between them increasing. "I…I can't," she murmured, swallowing and looking over her shoulder. "I have a great deal of work here—"

"Work?" he looked back at the infirmary, taking in the three students who were there, all of whom didn't look so bad, as far as he could tell. "What work? Bringing hot drinks to injured Quidditch players?"

He regretted the words as soon as they slipped passed his lips. The truth of the matter was, he was frustrated by the distance between them. Frustrated and angry and his heart felt sick every time he caught her eyes and she looked away. Maybe it was his fault, maybe they were both to blame, but the truth of the matter was…he missed her. Desperately.

Sybil stared at him, her face pale and her eyes wide with shock, as if she had just been slapped. He could say all he wanted that he was just teasing her, but he knew better; he knew that if he were honest with himself, his frustrations had gotten the better of him and he had lashed out. He closed his eyes, ran his hand over his face and through his hair, before opening them and looking at her apologetically. "Sybil, I didn't mean—"

"Oh please, what exactly DID you mean, Tom?" she hissed, her eyes wild and full of angry fire as she glared back at him. "You know…I…I would expect someone like…like _Larry Grey_ to say such things, to belittle what I do—but not you!"

"Sybil—"

"How could you, Tom? HOW COULD YOU?"

"Because I look at you, not being sure if you're mine, and I feel I may explode!"

Silence filled the space around them then, the quiet so…loud, it made his ears buzz.

A moment passed, and then another, before Sybil finally spoke. "Am I…am I _possession_ to you?"

"No, of course not!" Tom groaned. Nothing he was saying was coming out right. "No, I…I didn't mean it like that, I..." he looked at her, his eyes locked with hers and despite the awkwardness, despite the yearning for normally to return between the both of them, he looked at her and he knew that wasn't possible.

"I love you…" he finally said, his words soft but clear. He had revealed his feelings to her a year ago, but he hadn't been so blunt. "I love you, Sybil…I…I have for a long time—perhaps even the first day we met on that train, just before starting our first year…"

Sybil sucked in a breath and stared back at him, not moving.

"I think what you want to do, to work as a nurse and to help people, be they muggle or wizard, is very noble. But…but I think your talents are being wasted by staying here."

Sybil's eyes widened again in surprise. "What…what do you expect me to do? I…I'm still a student here, I can't just leave—"

"I know, I know, but…but maybe you can talk to your cousin, the one who helped convince Dr. Clarkson into letting you assist here? Talk to them both, find out ways in which you can…go into the villages surrounding the area on school holidays or weekends or…or even start thinking about going to a proper nurse's college when you're finished here!"

Her eyes kept getting wider and wider with every word he spoke. Tom took a deep breath and stepped towards her, closing the gap between them. Sybil gasped and then blushed, but much to his relief and delight, she did not back away.

"I asked you last year to bet on me…but now I'm asking you to bet on you; you don't have to go back to that life if you don't want to."

"W-w-what?" she stammered, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"When you're finished here at Hogwarts; you don't have to go back and…and wait your turn to be married off to some duke or grand wizard or anything like that—live your life as you want! And if that means going into the world, be it magical or muggle, and working as a nurse, then do it, Sybil! I know you can!"

She swallowed and looked down then, but still, she did not move away from him. "It's not that easy, Tom—"

"No, it's not," he murmured, before moving his hand gently cup her chin and lift her face to look back at him. "But…sometimes a hard sacrifice must be made for a future that's worth having."

Sybil stared at him…her eyes holding his, and then just like the year before, when they were in the owlery, her gaze fell to his lips, and Tom felt himself swaying, his own eyes falling to her mouth, his heart racing as he felt her breath against his face. So close…they were so close…

She turned then, turned and stepped away from him and Tom closed his eyes and groaned. The chasm was back.

There was nothing more to be said. He had come to tell her his news, which had quickly escalated into something else completely. But…despite it all, he didn't regret it, not one word. Because he knew she could be more than just _Lady_ Sybil Crawley, if she so desired. And perhaps, hopefully, she would believe that now too, if she knew someone else believed in her.

He turned then, trying his best to keep his head held high. But before he turned the corner, he heard Sybil call out to him, and with baited breath he turned back to her.

"What…what did you mean? When…when you said that? About…not being sure if I was…yours?"

He sighed and closed his eyes briefly, before opening them and meeting her gaze, holding it steadily. "You are, and always will be, my best friend, Sybil."

She nodded her head at this. "I see," she whispered. "So…so you meant you weren't sure if I was still your best friend?"

"No," he answered, which took her by surprise. "Though I will not deny that my greatest worry is that by being true to myself and telling you how I feel, that I've lost your friendship. But no, that's not what I meant."

She didn't blink. "Then…then what did you mean?"

He gazed back at her for a moment, his eyes looking so deeply into hers, searching hers for something, something that his heart was so sure to be there. And when he found it, he felt the corners of his mouth lift. "Actually, the question is…what do _you_ mean?"

"What?" Sybil looked confused. "Me? I…I don't understand—"

"You're too scared to admit it, but the truth is…you're in love with me."


	7. Year Seven

_ALMOST FINISHED! Their final year at Hogwarts *sigh* There will be an epilogue to follow this chapter, but here it is, their last school year, and the question on all our minds...will Sybil realize what we already know in her heart to be true? ;o) ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT! :oP_

_Thanks to everyone who has kept with this story; thanks to everyone for their kind reviews and encouragement, and I do hope you enjoy this (*whispers* I think you will!) _

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_Chapter Seven_

_1918_

"It's…it's over?"

Sybil stared back at her cousin with wide, disbelieving eyes, as Isobel stood before her and nodded her head in happiness, tears streaming down her face as she dabbed at her eyes.

"Yes…" she tearfully murmured. "It truly, truly is over; the War has come to an end at last!"

Without warning, her cousin enfolded her in a tight embrace, and Sybil stood there, her arms hanging limply from her sides, just too shocked to say anything.

_It's over…_

It was so strange to comprehend; her third year at Hogwarts had just begun when England had declared War with Germany. And yet the Daily Prophet didn't report on any of it for over a year after that, and only when it became hard to ignore that there were wizards joining and volunteering to join the nation's muggle armies, despite the Minister of Magic's firm warning that they shouldn't.

_It's over…_

It was surreal. So much had happened. Not only had a bulk of her time at Hogwarts taken place while the War was raging, but despite the Minister's warning and her father's opinion that they (being the wizarding world) should have nothing to do with the muggle's "desire to obliterate one another", that hadn't stopped the War from touching the people she cared about.

Tom Bellasis was dead. And dear Matthew had been badly injured earlier that summer. There was fear that not even the most potent magical potion could cure his paralysis, though her cousin Isobel continued to try. Both of her sisters were doing their part to help, volunteering their time and strength to serve convalescing soldiers (both muggle and magical), and naturally, Matthew's injury had brought both him and Mary closer. Mary was like Florence Nightingale, always by his side, ready to help him in whatever way she could. If anyone still doubted that they were in love, then the only explanation could be that they were blind. And of course, Sybil herself had looked for ways to help and serve, even though she was still a student. And thanks to her cousin and Dr. Clarkson, she had found a way, by serving as a nurse at the school…and then, thanks to Tom's encouragement, by doing what she could on school holidays and weekends in Hogsmeade, where she and her cousin established a small, but much needed "clinic" of sorts, for the residents there.

So much had happened. So many things had changed. And while she knew this was wonderful news, that this horrible, bloody war had finally come to an end…Sybil couldn't help but tremble with anxiety as another realization dawned on her.

The War was over…and in a few months, so would her time at Hogwarts; she would be expected to leave all of this—everything she had done—behind, and resume her role as Lady Sybil Crawley once more.

It was a selfish thought, she knew, and she did feel a little ashamed for it, but she couldn't help herself. She loved being a nurse. She didn't to stop being a nurse, just because the War was over. But girls like her, aristocratic, pureblood witches on the cusp of going to London for her formal debut when the school year was over, and to sit and wait until a proper husband was found for her…that was the future that was waiting. Never mind all the lessons she had learned while a student, never mind all the skills she had acquired; good heavens, what was the point of her O.W.L.'s? Or her upcoming N.E.W.T.'s? None of it mattered, clearly, if she were simply destined to become some wealthy wizard's wife.

"…_You don't have to go back to that life if you don't want to."_

Sybil's eyes widened and she looked at her cousin. "What did you say?"

Her cousin Isobel looked a little confused. "I simply said that the War has finally come to an end."

But Sybil frowned and shook her head. "No…no, you said something else…didn't you?"

Isobel's own brow furrowed as her confusion deepened. "I didn't my dear, I promise. Why, what did you think I said?"

"_I asked you last year to bet on me…but now I'm asking you to bet on you…"_

Tom.

His words filled her heart; they had been for quite some time.

When he had told her that he believed she loved him, she was honestly taken aback by his words. She didn't confirm anything…but at the same time, she didn't deny it either.

"_Don't be ridiculous!"_ _she had sputtered, but she couldn't look him in the eye when she spoke. And like the coward she was, she ran from him then, back into the infirmary, back to her waiting patients to refill their mugs—oh blast him for saying that!_

_He hadn't lingered. And she didn't go and seek him out when she was finished with her duties. Several days passed and neither of them spoke to one another. Tom seemed to take his cue from her; if she looked elsewhere, then so did he. If she sat with others from their house, like Anna, then he would sit with John and so forth. One of them would study in the library, while the other kept to the common room. They carried on like this for almost a week—and it was maddening._

_And Sybil knew she had no one to blame but herself. But good heavens, Tom could be frightfully full of himself! Just because she enjoyed his company and liked him and called him her best friend meant that she was in love with him?_

Well doesn't it?

_Sybil told that part of her heart to be silent._

If you didn't care, then you wouldn't—

_She left the infirmary in a huff, and walked the grounds of the school for a moment, eventually wandering out to the Quidditch pitch. Her feet seemed to know where to find him, and they hadn't been wrong. There he stood, like the good Hufflepuff captain that he was, checking all the equipment, tinkering with the brooms to make sure they were in tip-top shape…_

_He had his back to her…his strong, broad back—good heavens, he was quite muscular for a boy of sixteen—she shook her head and tried to focus on the man—BOY, that was there, wanting to end this silly silent war they had been keeping, but…not exactly sure how to begin doing that (because simply saying "sorry" didn't quite seem to be enough)._

"_I wish I knew how to play Quidditch…"_

_He froze, his hands pausing from their work, and he lifted his head and slowly turned around to face her. "I could teach you, if you like…?"_

_Sybil swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit light-headed in his presence. It was quite cool outside, and yet she felt rather warm. She also took notice that he had removed his outer robe, and had rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing a great deal of his forearms. Her eyes were rather transfixed on them, but his question brought her back, and she felt intense heat color her face. "No…no, that's your territory," she murmured, forcing a smile, despite the blush._

_He sighed and shook his head. "It doesn't have to be…not anymore. I always thought you would make a fine seeker."_

_Sybil blushed again and bit her bottom lip, not quite sure how to respond. He always seemed to have a knack for that; seeing her doing and accomplishing things when others doubted, including herself._

_Tom sighed then, drawing her attention back to him, and she watched him move to the equipment trunk. "Thought you were avoiding me?" he asked, his back to her._

"_Of course not!" She winced as soon as the words left her mouth._ Oh foolish girl, YES YOU HAVE BEEN! _"…Perhaps a little," she confessed, looking away and feeling rather ashamed of her cowardice. _

_He didn't say anything, nor did he give her any sort of strange look. But he did look back at her, his eyes looking soft, tender, caring…but also sad as well. Perhaps even…sympathetic? He closed the trunk then, satisfied with whatever task he had been performing, and Sybil knew that if she didn't say something—anything, at this point, they would fall back into this terrible awkwardness, and that was the last thing she wanted._

"_The truth is…"_

_Tom paused and looked back at her, waiting for her to finish her sentence._

_Sybil swallowed and opened her mouth to speak again, though a moment passed before the words came out. _

"_The truth is…" she began again. "I…I want to do some of the things you suggested."_

_He lifted an eyebrow at this, however she saw a bit of a cheeky grin starting to spread at the corner of his mouth. "What _I_ suggested?"_

Don't be daft, even if it's on purpose,_ she thought, scowling at him slightly. "Yes; I…I think you're right, there is a need in places beyond Hogwarts for a nurse, and while I haven't had the chance to yet, I would very much like to speak with both Dr. Clarkson and Cousin Isobel about seeing what can be done. Perhaps something in Hogsmeade first, use my time when students are allowed to go to the village as an opportunity to help people there—"_

"_I think that sounds like a fine idea."_

_She paused and looked at him; was he being serious? He was smiling, but…but it was a teasing smile, or even a cheeky one like she was used to from him._

_No, he looked very sincere. And very proud. _

_Proud of her._

"_I mean, I'm not going to stop my volunteering here at school—and it is more than just serving hot beverages," she muttered, though there was a teasing air to her voice, one that she could tell he recognized._

_He sighed wearily. "So what you're saying is that you still won't be able to try out and become Hufflepuff's all-star seeker?"_

"_Oh for heaven's sake," Sybil groaned, rolling her eyes, though she couldn't help but laugh. Tom was grinning too, and he folded his arms and leaned back against the equipment trunk, the simple gesture causing the muscles in his forearms to ripple slightly._

"_Sybil?"_

_She blushed, realizing then that she had been staring, and her eyes immediately snapped back up to his face. "I…" she swallowed and took a deep breath. It was the closest thing to an answer that she could give him, and it wasn't much…but she hoped for the time being, it would be enough. "What I'm trying to say is…I…I just can't think about it all until the war is over…" _

About it all.

_She closed her eyes and groaned as soon as the words had left her mouth. Oh how stupid that sounded. And cowardly! No wonder the Hat didn't sort her into Gryffindor. _

_She heard Tom sigh, and she bit her lip as she slowly looked at him through her lashes. "Fair enough," he murmured, unfolding his arms and starting to turn away from her again._

_Oh how defeatist that sounded. And how she hated herself for causing it!_

"_It won't be long now!" she found herself crying out. "Surely it won't be…just…just…"_

_Just what?_

"_Will you wait?"_

_She had no right to ask him that, especially since she hadn't given him any indication or confirmation about what she might feel—_

"_I'd wait forever."_

_Sybil gasped and she stared back at him, her eyes locked with his, his own blue, brilliant, and filled with…with…_

Is that what Love looks like?

"_I…I'm not asking for forever…" she found herself whispering, but Tom only smiled back at her, his expression so tender, Sybil swore her heart was swelling and melting at the look._

"_Even so," he murmured, turning and picking up the trunk, gritting his teeth slightly as he hauled it up onto his shoulders, before looking at her again, and giving her that wonderful, handsome, crooked smile of his, "…I'd still wait."_

And he did. That had been a year ago, and he was still waiting (ever the patient Hufflepuff). But things did get better between the both of them. There were still some awkward moments here and there, but for the most part, their friendship seemed to have become stronger than ever.

But he was still waiting. And she had promised to give him an answer when the War was over. And now it was.

_What would my family say? Papa never supported our friendship, though he doesn't even know Tom; he has no right to judge him. But…he has never forbidden me from being his friend, either. Though it's one thing to be friends and quite another to be…more._

Edith liked Tom, and Mary at the very least tolerated him. And Matthew liked him, of course, and Cousin Isobel had gotten to know him while he helped with whatever odd jobs needed helping at their little make-shift clinic in Hogsmeade. Perhaps with time her parents and grandmother would come around? But…but even if they didn't…would that stop her?

"…_You don't have to go back to that life if you don't want to."_

She didn't. She didn't want her fate to simply be marriage to some titled, pureblood wizard like Larry Grey. She didn't want her entire magical education to be for nothing. She didn't want to give up nursing! In fact, as Tom had suggested, she was interested in attending a training college somewhere, even a muggle school! But yes, getting proper training, becoming a proper nurse, running a clinic of her own, that would be open to both the magical and muggle world! And she didn't want to give up her politics; equality and fairness for women, the poor, and house elves still had a long struggle ahead of itself. And Tom understood her interests, he always had! He supported discussion; he encouraged it, especially when nobody else was willing to listen.

Oh gracious, this wasn't a question about whether or not she loved him—_OF COURSE_ SHE LOVED HIM! How could she not? He was her equal in every way. He was her best friend! And even if she lost favor with her family for her choices, from what she wanted to do with her life after Hogwarts, to who she wanted to spend her life with…

"If they want to give me up, that's their affair; I'm perfectly happy to carry on being friends with everyone! But I will not give him up!"

"Sybil?"

She gasped, realizing that she had spoken her thoughts out loud and in front of her cousin.

"What were you saying, my dear?"

Sybil opened her mouth to reply, though no sound came out…save one word.

"Tom…"

Isobel frowned. "Tom? Oh, your friend, Tom? Branson? Is something the matter with him?"

"Yes—no, I mean, no, nothing is the matter, at least…at least I don't think…" Her poor cousin looked even more confused, and Sybil knew she was rambling. So she did the only thing she could think of. "I must go."

"Oh! Sybil? Sybil!"

But she ignored her cousin and simply turned and ran from the infirmary, moving as quickly as her legs allowed, to…to…where? Where would he be?

She went to the Hufflepuff common room, but he wasn't there, nor was he in their library nook. She ran out to the Quidditch pitch, but Ravenclaw was practicing. So really, that only left one place she could think of…

"Tom?" she called out, her voice soft, but eager as she poked her head through the Owlery door. "Tom, are you here?"

"Sybil?"

A sigh of relief escaped her lungs as she heard his voice. She scrambled the rest of the way up the ladder, and quickly found him, standing off the side, feeding Neptune some scraps from their lunch earlier.

He wiped his hands and got a good look at her, no doubt taking notice to how flush her face was from the running she had been doing. Yet he smiled, and looked as if he were admiring her, before murmuring, "you look very fine," before adding after that, "don't you have a shift in the hospital wing? Won't they worry?"

Sybil blushed but shook her head. "They're all so pleased they won't care where I am."

Tom chuckled at this. "I doubt that, but…I did hear the good news, about the War finally ending. I'm pleased."

Sybil nodded her head. Yes, though she knew there were struggles still ahead, especially for her beloved Tom and his beloved homeland.

"What will you do?" she found herself asking while stepping closer. "When this year is over, and we've completed our N.E.W.T.'s? Will you go back to Ireland?"

Tom sighed and nodded his head. "Aye, I imagine so. And…while I'm not entirely sure, I'll most likely work with my brother and cousins who own and run a garage; I like flying on brooms, but I also like working and tinkering with engines," he confessed.

Sybil couldn't help but smile at this. "Well, you do have lovely hands—OH!" she gasped, her own hand flying to her mouth as she realized what she had just said.

Tom had heard it too, and lifted his eyebrows at her words, though he couldn't help but put on that cocky smile of his. "So…you think my hands are 'lovely'?"

Oh good heavens, he was going tease her mercilessly for that one. "W-w-what about writing? And politics?"

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Writing?"

"Of course! I mean, you're very good; always getting high marks for your essays. And you're especially good at writing and presenting a persuasive argument. Why…as mad as it might sound to you, I do think you'd make a wonderful Minister of Magic someday."

He burst out laughing then, and Sybil couldn't necessarily blame him, though she did mean it. He would make a very good Minister of Magic, and help bridge the gap between the wizarding world, and the muggle one he grew up in.

"I mean it, Tom! I do hope you go into politics, it's a fine ambition!"

He chuckled. "Ambition or dream? Besides, I told you, when I go back to Dublin—"

"You also told me," she interrupted, "that I should bet on you…and I am. I'm _betting on you_, Tom."

He was silent for a moment, not exactly sure what to say or how to respond. In fact, he lowered his eyes then, as if embarrassed, but Sybil didn't hesitate to lift her hand and cup his cheek, a gesture that clearly took him by surprise, as he froze at her touch, before lifting his eyes back to hers again, their gazes locked with each other.

"It's time to move forward," she whispered, her hand never lowering.

He swallowed. "Move…move forward?"

She nodded her head. "Tom…I'm so sorry that I made you wait. But…but I'm finally ready and sure to stand before you and say…"

He was holding his breath. And she couldn't help but smile.

"That I'm ready to travel, and you're my ticket," she whispered. "To get away from the life my family has intended for me, to—"

"_With me?"_

He was clearly flabbergasted.

"No, with Godric Gryffindor."

He blinked several seconds, and Sybil couldn't help but burst out laughing, and felt her heart lift even higher as she heard his laugh join hers.

"I…I'm sorry, I just…I've waited so long—"

"I know," Sybil interrupted, and crossed those final steps until she was practically pressed against him. "I know I made you wait, and I'm so sorry for that, but…but I _am_ sure, Tom; I am, and…" she licked her lips, especially as she noticed the way his eyes were falling to hers. "I love you," she whispered at last.

A sound bubbled up from his throat, a sound that, to her ears, was one of pure joy, mixed with a little relief. He started to lean towards her, but hesitated, just for a moment, as if making sure this wasn't a fluke of his imagination, that she truly was there, standing before him, telling him in a manner of speaking, that she was ready to burn every bridge if he simply fetched her the matches.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes you can kiss—"

She never finished her sentence, because the next thing she felt were his lips, warm and soft, pressed against her own.

Sybil couldn't help but moan in delight at the touch and feel of his mouth on hers, and her arms didn't hesitate to move and weave around his neck and shoulders. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt his own arms, strong and sure, weave around her body, drawing her closer, holding her as if she were the most beautiful, precious thing in the world…which she felt, because in his kiss, she could feel and taste his love for her, and she only hoped and prayed that he could feel and taste hers for him.

It was a first kiss for the both of them. They weren't experts, and when they tried to open their mouths and let their tongues move and meet, it was a little sloppy, that could not be denied. But it was no less wonderful. And Sybil giggled as he chuckled, before their lips parted, just a breath away, allowing them to look into each other's eyes and again, see the love they felt for one another reflected there.

"God knows it's enough that I can kiss you," he whispered, his hands now tenderly holding her face between his palms.

"Then kiss me again," she practically pleaded.

He grinned and leaned forward to do just that.

And it was perfect. Because it was with him.


	8. Epilogue

_HERE IT IS! The last "chapter" to this little exploration of Tom and Sybil as Hufflepuff students, as requested by **Adanwen**. So with that in mind, this chapter (and this entire story) is dedicated to her, but a HUGE THANK YOU to all of you who supported, read, and followed this story, and for taking the time to share your thoughts! _

_This is, truly, a little epilogue to describe (briefly) what happened after Hogwarts for Tom and Sybil (as well as a few others). I took a few liberties from the HP universe (I tried to be subtle, but you may see them). This may also mean that I created some "scenarios" that perhaps contradict the HP historical timeline, but hey! This is an AU, so just keep that in mind ;o)_

_Anyway, I do hope you enjoy this final chapter! Again, thank you for reading! _

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_Epilogue_

The walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry tell many stories, especially in the portraits that hang there.

There's the story of how Prof. Elsie Hughes became the school's first headmistress, and how Isobel Crawley, who after mentoring Sybil during her last few years at Hogwarts, decided to come back to the school and teach potions…and thus became Hufflepuff's new head teacher.

There's the story of Matthew Crawley, youngest Quidditch captain in Gryffindor's history, regarded by many in the years that followed as one of the greatest players of the game, and who was also seen in the eyes of many (both muggle and magical) to be a hero during the Great War. Matthew was also Robert's heir, and when the earldom was succeeded unto him, Downton Abbey became a place of refuge for the school's "charity pupils", who had no place to go for holidays (short or long). And eventually, the House vs. Village Cricket Match was replaced with Quidditch, which proved to be even more fascinating for the muggle residents who couldn't fly a broomstick.

Mary did eventually become Countess of Grantham when she accepted Matthew's proposal and married him, thus ending at long last, the speculation that the two of them were always deeply in love with the other. They married in 1920, and it was one of the grandest weddings in all the wizarding world, making the front page of the Daily Prophet. Mary came to embrace Matthew's hope of utilizing Downton for students at Hogwarts; this was no doubt brought on when Downton became a convalescent home for soldiers recovering from the War, as Matthew had done. Mary also used her power and influence in the wizarding world (especially amongst pureblooded families) to help them support muggle-born students who lacked a magical mentor, as well as to bridge the gaps and tear down the stereotypes that had been built amongst witches and wizards of her own kind. She always "blamed" this change of perspective on her husband, sister, and Tom Branson, _especially_ Tom Branson, who had served as Matthew's best man at their wedding, and was made the godfather of their first born. But with time, Mary came to embrace Tom as well, seeing him in the same eyes as Edith, a brother whom they had never had, and often she and Tom would travel together, to speak to these wizarding families about ending the prejudice between purebloods and muggle-borns.

Edith surprised everyone when she married Hogwarts' botany professor, Sir Anthony Strallan. He had started working at Hogwarts during Edith's final year, and she could not deny that she did find the gentleman both distinguished and rather handsome. But it was during a ceremony to welcome Isobel to the school's faculty, that Edith and Sir Anthony were reacquainted. She was a little older now (in her twenties) and while there was a twenty-five year age gap between the pair of them, she honestly didn't mind, and felt no shame in pursuing the man. Eventually the two of them did marry, and kept a fine house not far from Hogwarts. Again, Edith surprised everyone when she decided to take a teaching position herself at the school…as the new instructor in broomstick flying!

Yes, it seemed that all of the Crawley girls were destined to do something with their future for Hogwarts, as Sybil was no different from either of her sisters, though she came to the school at a much later point in her life.

Sybil received the highest marks on her N.E.W.T.'s, higher than any other Hufflepuff before her, and some of the highest of any student specifically in the area of potions. It only made sense, since with her cousin Isobel's help, she had done a great deal of lab work and potion testing to find one that would help Matthew recover from his spinal injury. It furthered Sybil's determination to do something involving nursing and medicine when she was finished with her schooling, though she knew it would be a battle in convincing her family that this was the right thing for her to do…especially when she revealed _where_ she wanted to do her work.

Sybil wanted to go with Tom to Ireland, to be a nurse and help the Irish people, both muggles and wizards alike. Tom had told her that many who were like him (witches and wizards) were afraid to coming forth and revealing their magical nature, that there were old stereotypes that continued to thrive amongst the Irish people. While Tom very much wanted to help his homeland achieve independence from British rule, he also wanted to help Irish witches and wizards (especially those from working class backgrounds) understand that they were not alone, and that there was a place where they could go to, to better understand these unique abilities.

Robert had naturally protested.

"_I won't allow it! I will not allow my daughter to throw away her life!"_

And Sybil had naturally retaliated.

"_You can posture all you like, Papa, but it won't make any difference!"_

Robert then naturally blamed Tom's "bad influence".

"_This is your fault! Seducing my daughter behind my back—"_

And naturally, Tom retaliated as well.

"_I've not seduced anyone! And give your daughter some credit for knowing her own mind!"_

In the end, it took Isobel, Matthew, and both Edith and Mary to convince Robert to offer his "blessing", though it was given most reluctantly. All of them (including Mary) spoke highly of Tom, that he was a very good student (his N.E.W.T.'s were the second highest for Hufflepuff, just after Sybil), and Prof. Hughes thought him to be one of the school's best writers, and had encouraged him to submit some of his essays to the Daily Prophet's sister office in Dublin. They were so impressed by his writing (to the point where they didn't believe that Tom Branson was merely eighteen years old) that they offered him a small job should he come back to Ireland. It wouldn't be enough to live on by itself, but it was a door, offering an opportunity to express his political thoughts and ideas with the world, both magical and muggle.

Cora was satisfied with Sybil's decision, only when she learned that Sybil would be staying with Mrs. Branson (and that Isobel would travel with the young couple and stay on for a little while, until Sybil was properly settled). Cora Crawley and Mrs. Branson began a "pen pal" relationship, Mrs. Branson keeping Lady Grantham informed about all the good her daughter was doing as a nurse in Dublin, and assuring her that both Tom and Sybil were being very proper in their long courtship, both agreeing to wait and hold back on pursuing marriage until after they had turned twenty-one (though pursue it, they most definitely wanted to). In the meantime, during those years of waiting, Sybil became a very highly respected nurse, despite her "suspicious" English accent and magical knowledge, and Tom eventually moved up from writing the occasional article, to becoming a full-time journalist, whose area of specialty was muggle/wizard relations. This knowledge and experience became very handy for the future…

On the morning of Sybil's twenty-first birthday, Tom proposed, and before he was even finished with asking his question, she had thrown her arms around him and more or less had tackled him to the grown, her lips answering with unending kisses. They had waited four years for this day (not to mention the years Tom had waited for Sybil to tell him whether or not she returned his feelings). And while Hufflepuffs were known for their patience, neither one of them wanted to wait another day, and so before the evening was finished, they had rushed to a registrar's office, giggling and holding a makeshift bouquet of wildflowers, and were married at last.

Of course, Mrs. Branson was furious upon learning this later, and demanded that they have a "proper ceremony", which they agreed to do, though they refused to pretend that they weren't married and continue sleeping in separate rooms.

The wedding was nowhere near as grand as Mary's or Edith's, but for Tom and Sybil it was perfect. All of Sybil's family came to the ceremony, including her grumbling father, but Robert had long since resigned himself to the fact that Sybil was simply different from any other Crawley (she was the family's first Hufflepuff after all), and therefore would continue to do things differently, no matter how much he grimaced about it. However, as the years passed, he did soften to the marriage, especially when his first granddaughter was placed in his arms.

For over ten years, the Bransons made their home in Dublin, and three children. By the time their eldest turned eleven, and much to her parents happiness received her first letter from Hogwarts, another letter also arrived, this time for Sybil from Cousin Isobel.

Isobel was retiring at last, and had apparently recommended Sybil Branson to be her successor—"the mistress of potions"—_if_ she wanted the position.

She and Tom talked for a long time about the matter; they loved Ireland, and Sybil truly felt at home in Dublin, just as much (if not more so) as she did at Downton, growing up. But Tom saw a wonderful opportunity for his wife, to help nurture young, brilliant minds so that they could go into the world and make it better for future generations. He also spoke with his editor at the Dublin office, and secured a post with the Daily Prophet in London. Thanks to floo powder, he could travel back and forth from their cottage (in Hogsmeade) to the capital quite easily. Of course, their daughter's biggest concern was that if her mother was going to be on the faculty at the school, did this mean that she would be "forced" to stay at home? Sybil assured her that no, she could stay in the dormitories, however Sybil also made it clear that she would not be receiving "special treatment" just because her mother was the Potions Mistress.

Tom and Sybil had another baby while living in England, and all four children (along with their cousins) went to Hogwarts. Two of the children were sorted into Hufflepuff, while another went to Ravenclaw, and their youngest to Slytherin (_"she's very ambitious, just like her mother,"_ Tom had teased).

Tom was eventually elevated to the position of editor-in-chief for the Daily Prophet, and by the time their youngest daughter started going to Hogwarts, Sybil became the head of Hufflepuff House. There were many amongst the faculty who asked Sybil if she was vying for the position to one day follow in Prof. Hughes' footsteps and become the next headmistress of the school. But in the end, Sybil smiled and declined the offer. Rather, she devoted what extra time she had to the small clinic that both she and her cousin had once established in the village of Hogsmeade, and that continued to thrive and flourish.

As for Tom, he did eventually get into politics, though not as the Minister of Magic, himself. But he was named the Minister of Muggle Affairs, and thus spent a great deal of time serving as a liaison between the Minister of Magic, and various, prominent political figures in both Britain and Ireland (all muggles). He kept the position well into his senior years, after his gray hair became a silver white. By that point, Sybil had retired from Hogwarts, and now worked and served at the clinic in Hogsmeade.

Their eldest followed in her mother's footsteps, taking an interest in nursing, and then decided to go a step further and pursue becoming a doctor. Their eldest son took an interest in studying magical creatures, and traveled around the world, taking notes and reporting to various conservation organizations about protecting these mysterious animals. He eventually achieved the role of Game Keeper at the school, and was a beloved favorite amongst many students (including a large, burly-looking boy who also shared a love and fascination with magical beasts). Their second son followed his father into a career in journalism, eventually returning to Ireland to become the editor-in-chief to the Daily Prophet's sister office in Dublin. And as for their youngest (the ambitious Slytherin), she not only went on to becoming an all-star Quidditch player (like her father), but also eventually became Headmistress of Hogwarts too.

The Bransons had twelve grandchildren, who also went on to do great things, big and small. Tom and Sybil's portraits were hung in several galleries throughout the school, as well as portraits of their children and extended family. Many students would pass these paintings, some without looking twice, others (like a colorful haired witch by the name of Tonks) who would gaze fondly at the painting of the smiling Sybil Branson, which hung over the fireplace in the Hufflepuff common room.

The Branson legacy continued to flourish, both at Hogwarts and its surrounding areas, as well as back in Dublin and throughout Ireland. More and more witches and wizards from Ireland began to attend the school, no longer afraid of hiding their magical abilities. And while there were opponents to the pursuit of fair and equal rights between purebloods and muggle-borns, this legacy extended generations later, inspiring more within the wizarding world to take a stand for justice and equality.

Indeed, these were just some of the stories that could be found all over the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But those stories extended well beyond the school's walls, and even beyond the shores of both England and Ireland. Tom and Sybil Branson had left their mark on the world, both as adults…and as students.

They were many things: a nurse and a writer, a teacher and a politician, a married couple who became parents, and then grandparents, and then great-grandparents, and of course, best friends; _always_ best friends, who always betted on each other.

Patient, hard-working, just, and loyal. Not just the sort of traits that make a good Hufflepuff, but the sort of traits that make anyone a decent person. That, truly, was Tom and Sybil's legacy.

**THE END**


End file.
